Sara's quiet evening with girlfriend turns into orgy.
Certainly the crab apple was old and knarled but it had a certain beauty in its aged trunk: its leaves though were as green as a young plant and, Danielle thought, as vigorous. There was hidden vigour in the old tree.
Their clamour was insistent and the old gardener relented. He sat down with a sigh on a wooden bench and begun to unlace his boots. He talked as he undressed, about trees, pointing to this one and that one as he slowly removed his waistcoat, let his braces hang loose and pulled his white shirt over his head.
He was hirsute, grey curls matted his chest and whilst his skin had a rather leathery look he was much more muscle than Danielle expected. Years of constant gardening seemed to have kept him in fine fettle. An aged manliness, no doubt quite different from the young, soft skin of a boy.
He stood in his old grey trousers with his red boxcloth braces hanging loose. Danielle bit her lip, the feeling of wetness intensified between her legs. She knew she should not be, but most certainly was excited by the prospect of seeing a real penis. She was sure it would not have the likely appearance of a boy's but, like the crab apple, betray age in its trunk, yet still display a natural spring like vigour.
The man undid and let his trousers down.
Danielle was initially disappointed although not at all wrong about its resemblance to the crab apple. Brown and so wrinkled with a long tapering prepuce rather reminiscent in its coils of wrinkled skin of a worm cast on the lawn. It hung rather than stood in a nest of greying curls. So different from the smooth appearance of her friend and herself. The balls hung below looking like a pair of overly large walnuts. Danielle knew they hung away from the body to keep cool. It was a hot day and they hung low.
The sinews of his legs gave an appearance of the tree to them, sturdy and hard. The man looked so right for the garden. It was old and well-tended as was he, and with the natural vigour of the plants. He stood smiling at them, still with the red kerchief around his neck.
"This be me asparagus bed."
Her hand in his, Danielle looked at the ferns standing tall and closely packed, a light breeze moved them. It was way past the time for eating asparagus. The spears had grown pushing their feathery leaves up high into the air to draw strength into themselves for next year's growth.
"They grows strong in t'spring, you can almost see 'em a growin,' pushing their heads out t' ground. Bit like me ol' cock do grow."
What Danielle had wanted to see was happening. His penis was swelling, doing the man thing. And the girls stared as it rose up into the air. There was indeed something of the asparagus about it, especially when its bulbous head, rounded and smooth, poked out of its encircling skin, long and rounded at the end - just like the vegetable. Danielle had not missed the phallic shape of the asparagus on her plate, had rather thought its reputation as an aphrodisiac was more connected to its obvious sexual shape than any minerals it might contain.
But unlike the vegetable the gardener's erection had a lot of the crab apple about it. It was not smooth and seemed to have a twist to it as the veins bulged and grew up the shaft. It was a wrinkled and craggy thing, gnarled like a tree root or old tree trunk but big. Danielle knew enough to know it was big, but there again, all things grew big and strong in the garden. A vigorous penis indeed.
Danielle had a momentary thought of herself and Siobhan in the asparagus bed, the fresh shoots newly pushed through the soft ground, thick and penis like and the two of them giggling and watching the other as they tried different shoots for size.