She's Stuck in the Sixties

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Folks in town thought the burnt out hippie woman crazy.
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Dear readers... part of this story made a brief appearance here before being yanked down at my request because it was submitted by mistake (unfinished, not proofread and in the wrong category). Very few people saw it because they took it down promptly, but if you read a story with a similar title earlier this month, this is the same (albeit now longer and complete) so act accordingly.

*****

When twenty seven year old plumber Mac Crawford saw the message light blinking on his company phone that morning, he had a suspicion about who it was that had left a message, and the minute he heard the voice he chuckled and shook his head.

"Hello Mac," chirped the unmistakable voice of the middle-aged woman on the hill, his one-man firm's best customer over the last year or so. "When you get a chance could you come out here? The damn faucet's leaking again. Thanks. Peace."

The faucet. He had been out to replace that six months ago, and it had started leaking several times since then. Same with the toilet repair he had done. Nothing stayed fixed.

There was another message on the machine, and when he prompted it, the same voice came on.

"Hi Mac. Me again. I just left a repair request on the machine and forgot to tell you who I am. It's Peggy. Okay? Bye. Peace."

Mac knew who it was of course. When you get 40 or so messages over the space of a year you start to recognize the voice. Then again why would somebody keep calling the same plumber when the work never stayed fixed?

It wasn't his work that was screwy though, it was Peggy Pierce. It had taken Mac a while to figure it out and was feeling bad about what seemed like substandard work he had done until he realized that the woman was loosening connections and undoing his work.

One time he had mentioned that to Peggy and the fiery redhead had taken umbrage at the suggestion that she was crazy enough to do such a thing, especially since she paid him for every service call.

That she did, and after that she started to put some variety in the repairs that needed doing. The toilet one week, the sink drain the next and so on. Mac wasn't fooled and he suspected that Peggy knew full well she was onto her game. She didn't care. She just wanted him to visit her.

People of the small town of Thurman in the Adirondacks of New York State all knew Peggy Pierce. Some said she was crazy, others claimed she was eccentric but harmless. A burnt out hippie who live alone in a simple cabin on a hill off the main drag. A free spirit who didn't seem to care what people thought of her. If there was ever a Mr. Pierce to help her, he was long gone.

Mac grew to really like her even if she did drive him bonkers on occasion at first, and even though she was a little strange Mac began to understand why she kept calling him, and he he loved it when she did. She might not have been a spring chicken but looked certainly okay for 50 something or however old she was, and if she wanted companionship that badly she could go to the tavern in town and wouldn't likely go home alone.

Peggy didn't visit the Stony Creek Tavern though, or if she ever did frequent customer Mac Crawford never saw her there. Her social life seemed to be the plumber's visits and her entertainment was the music that played in the cabin non-stop it seemed. Vinyl, not CD's or cassettes, and if there was something she owned more recent than the seventies Mac hadn't heard it during any of his visits.

That was fine by Mac because having heard that music played by his parents as he grew up, he knew much of it already and much preferred it over hip-hop, faux country and other stuff popular today.

Mac also wasn't put off by some of Peggy's eccentricities. Despite what seemed to be her rather bohemian lifestyle she was always clean and her frizzy red hair was always washed, but she wore no perfumes or many other chemicals, although she often did reek of patchouli.

Peggy didn't appear to own a TV or a computer but seemed to be a voracious reader with books filling a multitude of shelves on the bookcases they shared with her LP's, and her washing machine was something out of the stone age, one of those ones with the wringer on them that Mac had fixed one time at the start of their relationship.

Mac didn't know what else Peggy did or didn't have in the way of modern conveniences, but there were two things that he was reasonably certain that Peggy Pierce did not possess.

One thing were brassieres. Peggy was fond of wearing vintage tank tops of bands people his age had likely never have heard off, and Peggy never wore anything underneath those skimpy tops in winter or summer.

It wasn't that Peggy Pierce was the kind of woman who didn't need a bra either, and the evidence of that was clear to see. Peggy was a rather slender woman but her breasts were quite large, their size accentuated by the somewhat petite body that carried them. The bell-shaped jugs hung low and swung free, and Peggy didn't mind if they got looked at either, Mac knew full well.

From that very first visit Mac had looked but he rationalized his gawking at a woman old enough to be his mother at the fact that Peggy's breasts were impossible not to look at. The tank-tops she wore were barely able to contain them and left little to the imagination, although from the minute Mac had finished his work on that first visit, his imagination was no longer needed.

The other thing not present, or least not used at Peggy's cabin were razors. The bushy red hair that filled the deep caverns under Peggy's skinny arms was long and grew thickly, and if her armpits had ever felt a razor it had to have been many moons ago.

That had put Mac off at first because this was something his generation had been conditioned against, but the more he saw it the more he got to like the look. It wasn't for everybody but it was perfect for Peggy and underlined her free spirited nature. Her legs were also unshaven but unlike her underarms the hair on her calves was faint and sparse.

Faint and sparse would not describe what was under Peggy's panties when she wore them, because her wild untrimmed bush was too widespread to be contained even when she did have a pair on with the dense pubic growth ranging high, low and wide.

How did the plumber know all this? That was simple. Peggy had showed it to him. All of herself without hesitation or shame, and after he got done with whatever bogus repair needed doing at the Pierce place this day he would probably see it Peggy again in all her natural glory. Since business wasn't all the great lately, that was fine with Mac but he knew that even if he had a lot of jobs lined up he would always find time for Peggy.

***

"Hi Peggy," Mac said as he lugged his tool box up the steps and into the simple cabin at the top of the hill. "Which one is it this time?"

"Hey Mac honey. The bathroom sink. Started dripping a couple of days ago," Peggy explained.

"The Fillmore East," Mac said as he looked at the logo on the tan shirt as well as the pendulous breasts that hung free underneath the baggy top.

"You ever go there?" Peggy asked and then corrected herself. "Hell, what I am I thinking? You're too young to know that place. I went just once just before they closed. The New Riders of the Purple Sage opened for the Grateful Dead. You ever hear of them?"

"Of course I have and that's the Dead you're playing now isn't it?" Mac said as he cocked his ear to the sounds of "Uncle John's Band" roaring from the other room.

"It is!" Peggy chirped happily. "Mac, I swear you were born too late."

"I've heard that before," his burly plumber agreed as he swiveled the broad shoulders of his 6'1" 220 pound frame to get into the bathroom's narrow doorway along with his tools.

"Too bad you weren't my age and I didn't know you back then. We could have had a heck of a time you and me, or at least that's the way I figure it," Peggy said as she stood in the doorway. "That too loud for you?"

"No, it's fine. What's that you always say? If it's too loud..."

"You're too old!" Peggy finished for him, and as she put her hands on the top molding of the doorway she asked, "Get you something to drink? Coffee, tea or me? Water maybe?"

"No, I'm good," Mac replied as he watched the aging woman flaunt her sexuality rather blatantly since her t-shirt and her pose showcased her massive hangers along with the wild sprays of burnt orange hair under her arms, and while he didn't have to look he always did. "As long I have my tools I'm good."

"A man without his tool is pretty worthless," Peggy cackled. "You mind listening to the Dead? I can put on something else. Santana maybe? What's the best music to do your thing by?"

"No, it's fine. Just about everything you play is fine just as long as you don't put that sitar music on again," Mac joked as he crawled under the sink.

"Ravi Shankar? He's an acquired taste I guess, I'll grant you that," Peggy replied. "Like me."

Mac joined in her laughter, glancing at her bare feet and the light down around her ankles, and he had to agree with that self-assessment. Her feet were clean which given her barefoot mode was remarkable and spoke for the cleanliness of her cabin's floor, and as he looked at them he wondered what Peggy would do if he grabbed her ankle and started sucking on her toes. He knew what she would do. Nothing, except maybe yank his shoes and socks off and suck on his too.

Workingman's Dead played on and Mac Crawford fixed what Peggy had undone to justify his visit while the woman stood there and chatted. Mac took his time because he had gotten into a somewhat comfortable position that let her look at Peggy's feet. The dusty of light red hair on her calves he was ambivalent about - but much preferred the feel of that over legs covered with razor bumps - unlike her armpit hair which he liked and her bush which he loved.

He would be seeing it all shortly, or at least that was the likely ending of this service call. It had gone that way for the other 40 or so times he had been here, so while he still looked at the visit here as a job and sometimes rolled his eyes when he heard her voice on the machine, if Peggy ever stopped calling or ended the visit only with the crumpled tens and fives and sent him on his way, he would be hurt and vowed not to ever take her for granted.

"That should do it," Mac announced after climbing to his feet and testing the connections while Peggy stood at his side holding his bicep snugly.

"Thanks Mac," Peggy said, and after the plumber nodded and glanced over he saw the unmistakable impression of her nipples poking out into the fabric of her top as the cotton garment's strength was tested. "It's nice to have a big strong man around the house - sometimes."

"Let me wash my hands and I'll get out of your hair," Mac told her, and as he scrubbed his meaty paws Peggy disappeared, likely going to the kitchen or the bedroom where they would settle up, as she called it.

As it turned out Peggy was in the kitchen lighting up a joint, and while it was a bit early for such a thing Mac knew better than refuse so he took a toke and then gave it back, explaining that he still had another call to make.

"I like it better when I'm your last stop," Peggy said as she flipped the vinyl over, and after Mac explained that his final one was to the local tavern which didn't open until later so there was no rush she smiled. "That's good. Guess we should settle up."

Mac nodded and followed Peggy into the bedroom where the bed was either unmade or turned down, and as Peggy turned to face him she put her arms around the burly man's neck and nibbled on his ear.

"Much as I like it, don't do my ass today honey," Peggy purred. "Last time I couldn't walk right for days."

"Sorry," Mac replied.

"Not your fault. Remember I was the one that kept yelling for you to fuck me harder," Peggy reminded him, and then giggled a bit when she felt the plumber's thumbs slide up her sides and under her upraised arms to stroke the soft abundant hairs. "Mmm - now that you can do all day you kinky boy."

"Okay," Mac smiled in response, and he suspected that he enjoyed the feel of the silky fur as much as the older woman liked what he did to it.

"You're getting hard already," Peggy sighed as she leaned into him and tried to get her crotch to line up with the taller man's. "That big juicy cock of yours needs to get out of confinement."

"You know best," Mac told her, and with a grace that belied her age - and how old was she? maybe mid-fifties which would make her twice his age - she dropped to her knees and deftly undid his belt and pulled down his jeans while Mac first kicked off his work shoes and then the pants.

Peggy set the jeans aside and let her hands slide up Mac's hairy legs on the way to his briefs, and she gave the bulge a playful bite before impishly looking up at the plumber for approval.

Peggy's hand rubbed the bulge in his boxers before easing them down, and after his semi-erect manhood swayed a bit up to meet Peggy she snatched it, holding the thick shaft of his cock in her fist and leaning forward to slip her tongue under the foreskin.

"Love this big beautiful cock of yours," Peggy muttered before opening her mouth and letting her lips slide down the bulbous knob, and while Mac knew his cock was nothing exceptional size-wise he loved hearing her say it.

Mac's cock wasn't much longer than average if at all, but his member was thick. While that had posed problems for others in the past Peggy had no complaints, proving that by taking him in any and all orifices in the past, and as the redhead's lips slid up and down almost the entire length of him it soon became fully engorged.

"You going to let me have fun too aren't you Peggy?" Mac asked as he reached under her arms and lifted her to her feet, and after she stood before him his meaty hands kneaded the pliant flesh of her bosom, roughly squeezing the enormous breasts through the tank top until Peggy reached down and pulled it off to let him get at the flesh itself.

"Even better," Mac sighed as he handled the soft pale flesh, the pebbly drink coaster sized aureolas tickling his palms as the fat nipples blossomed into even larger bullets.

"You like Mama's jugs don't you babe?" she smiled as she writhed into his clutches, savoring the way the plumber handled her over-sized breasts. "And you know the way Mama likes them handled too."

As Peggy did her little dance while he played with her breasts she stretched high and wide, either lost in the music, his fondling or a combination of the two. Mac loved her attitude and freedom as much as the freckles on her shoulders and upper chest and the sprays of hair under her arms which he leaned down and kissed lightly.

Soon Peggy was unbuttoning Mac's shirt and peeling it off, and after she cast it aside buried her face in his chest, her lips finding his nipples through the little dusting of hair and sucking them hard.

"That's it big boy," Peggy yelped as Mac moved her back against the bed, and as she fell back unto the rollicking waterbed she told him, "You see something you want you take it."

"I am," Mac replied as he pulled her shorts down, quickly discovering that Peggy wore no panties that day and announcing, "Commando!"

"Figure they would only slow you down," Peggy cackled as she spread her legs and ran her hand through the wild jungle of burnt orange curls that spread far and wide in her delta. "I'm already wet in case you're curious and in a hurry."

"In that case you don't mind if I make you wetter then," Mac concluded as he climbed onto the bed and dove his head between her pale parted thighs, since the sight of her age-defying body put the cooler drain at the Stony Creek Tavern on the far back burner.

"I was hoping you'd say that baby," Peggy declared as she welcomed Mac's face, running her hands through his hair while announcing loudly, "You eat pussy better than just about anybody and you don't let a little hair spook you either. That's it - eat Mama's hairy cunt like a good boy."

Something about Peggy's pussy seemed to trip something inside of Mac - something maybe even primal. Maybe it was the very pungent taste and aroma or maybe it was the profuse thicket of hair that surrounded her sex, but whatever it was when combined with her frequently profane talk he become like an animal and Peggy loved that about her burly repairman.

By the time Peggy came, loudly and frantically, she had squirmed all the way across the bed despite Mac's best efforts to control her movement. The waterbed was rocking them around crazily, and she had just barely stopped convulsing when she was yanking the plumber's face out of her crotch and grabbing for his cock.

"How do you want me baby?" Peggy asked but Mac was already in motion and so Peggy held onto his manhood and helped him plunge it right into her pussy, howling as the thick meat burrowed into her sex.

"That's it baby - fuck me hard," Peggy encouraged as she held onto his broad shoulders while he thrust first slow and sensuously and then hard and fast before slowing down again.

"So good baby," Peggy told him as her hands squeezed his biceps and pinched his nipples. "You're a regular fucking machine. You going to finish the way Mama likes it?"

"Don't I always?" Mac grinned as his cock plunged in and out of the little lady under him.

"That's my baby, my big sweaty baby - give Mama a taste," Peggy gasped as she had Mac lean over her so she could first chew on his nipples before reaching up and burying her face under his arm and chewing his sweaty pits before plopping back down on the bed.

"Time?" Peggy asked, and when Mac nodded she athletically squirmed out from under the plumber and crawled around on all fours so that she was facing the full length mirror on the inside of the closet door, which she always had open for this purpose.

Mac sidled up behind Peggy after grabbing her buttocks and taking a peak at the furry grotto between them, and as he worked his cock up and down Peggy's labia he looked straight ahead at Peggy's face in the mirror.

"You know how I like it," Peggy cackled as she leaned her head back and shook her frizzy red locks while admiring their images in the looking glass.

"How WE like it you mean," Mac said as he pushed his fat tool inside Peggy's pussy, enjoying the look on her face in the mirror as he impaled her. "How do you like that?"

"You put your cock in me yet?" Peggy snickered, pleased that her young protege not only didn't mind to play he seemed to enjoy the playful banter.

"You won't be saying that in a few minutes when you're begging for mercy," Mac assured the older woman.

"Been tried before," Peggy snapped back. "Lot of men have tried."

"I'm not a lot of men," Mac growled, grabbing Peggy's scalp and pulling her head back gently. "I'm going to tear your hairy pussy to shreds."

"So far all you're doing is putting me asleep - less filibuster and more fucking!" Peggy yelped just as Mac started doing exactly that.

It had taken the plumber a while to get into the role that Peggy wanted him to play, since before he met the aging hippie he was more the gentle and caring lover, or at least he had usually tried to be. Peggy liked a little of that, he had found, but this is what she really loved. Hard, rough and vulgar.

"Fuck!" Peggy howled as Mac savaged her from behind, his thick tool driving in to the hilt as he made the bed rock so much she was forced to hold on tight to stay on all fours, helped by the fist of hair Mac had hold of. "That all you got?"

Mac's next thrust almost lifted Peggy's knees from the bedding, and judging by the way she laughed maniacally she loved it when he smacked her ass hard with his palm. In the mirror he hardly recognized himself because he looked like something from a zoo, with sweat flying off of him, his face red and nostrils flared.