Woodstock 12 (R Rated)

White Lake

Notation: The Woodstock Music Festival began on August 15, 1969, as half a million people waited on a dairy farm in Bethel, New York, for the three-day music festival to start.

35,000 people were expected, instead, approximately 450,000 people attended the...

Woodstock Festival of Music and Love
Bethel, New York

August 12, 1969

10:25 AM

At last, onto the road.

“You been there, Lust?” Sharon asked “You know the way to White Lake?”

Turning to the north. “No, but it’s this way.”

As the road in both directions was haphazardly jammed with vacated vehicles, having to walk on the far outside of the soft shoulder.

“ Sharon's your real name?"

“Yes.” Looking at him. “Of course!”

Taking her hand. “You can stop calling me by that stupid name.”

Tightening her fingers about his. “What should I call you then?”

“Franklin. My name’s Franklin.”

Thinking a moment. “Okay to call you Frank?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather Franklin.”

“Franklin it is then. And you’re right, that was a really stupid name.”

“Margery’s idea…” having to go into the brush around a beat up Oldsmobile that had over parked completely covering the soft shoulder “... said we shouldn’t use our real names or tell anyone anything about ourselves.”

Sharon and Clyde had spoken about that same thing, and both agreed that no more than their first names should ever to be disclosed to anyone they should meet.

However, “Why’s that?” Sharon asked.

“Going to be lots of, uh, fucking around and if some of those hippie girls get knocked up, well…?”

Believing her husband. Knowing she was incapable of ‘getting knocked up’. “That’s their problem then, huh?”

“Sharon…”

“You can call me Sherry, if you’d like.”

Approaching a group of three chattering female hippies in shorts and halter tops going in the same direction.
Hiking his shorts up a bit, further exposing himself.

“Hi!” Franklin said when coming abreast.

“Hi, back at’sh’ya.” the buxom one said. “Goin’ swimmin’?”

Looking over his shoulder in passing, “Yeah! See ya there.”

Noticing his tight ass and exposed penis. “Hope so.” the skinny one said.

Possessively putting her arm about his waist. “That easy picking them up, huh?”

Putting his arm about Sharon’s bare waist, causing her to stumble on the weedy ground. “Seems so. Here, at least.”

“Wasn’t too hard for you to get to me.”

“Well, yeah. First off, When I saw you, I knew I’d like you, and when you went into the crowd yesterday and your husband went in another direction, I knew that all that floating THC would get to you, and then, when we were forced to stand so close. Well.”

“Had no place else to put them, eh? So you had to reach around and grab my tits.”

“Yeah.” Smiling. “You’ve got great tits, by the way.”
“For an old broad.”

“Nah. I love your tits!” moving his hand upward, gently cupping Sharon’s right breast “They always give me a hard-on.”

Looking downward and to her left. Franklin’s exposed foreskin a bit more exposed. “So I notice.”

“Then, when you reached around and took hold of my dick…?

“You came.” Sharon said.

Sadly stated. “Yeah.”

“Twice, as a matter of fact.” She said kindly. “All I had to do was to touch you.”

“Like I said; your tits always turn me on.”

10:40 AM

White Lake is a hamlet in the town of Bethel on the southeastern shore of a lake of the same name. It was the closest community to the Music Festival in 1969. Spotting a white sign about two or three hundred yards ahead, Reading: ‘White Lake’.

Tuning right onto an asphalt covered road then, about a hundred yards further on, approaching a concrete road, once again turning right…

Removing his arm, and moving a few inches away. “I’ve a problem with that.” He admited.

“A problem with?” Thinking a moment. “Coming fast?” Sharon asked.

“Yeah.” He said quietly.

Thinking, a twenty year old guy with a premature ejaculation problem? “You thinking this older woman maybe can help you with that?”

Studying the motion of Sharon’s breasts within the skimpy bra top as they walked on. “Margery thinks so.”
I’m supposed to teach him how to fuck? “How’s about you, Franklin? You think I can help you with, uh, your problem?”

His eyes still fastened on her breasts, stubbing his toe on a rock. “Yeah. I do, Sherry.”

Thinking: It’ll be a lot of fun trying. “Okay. If you think so, I’ll do my best.”

10:51 AM

Passing through the small hamlet, there was a grouping of store front business’: A barber shop, that was empty; a fast food restaurant that was overflowing onto the street with ‘Woodstock’ people waiting for a warm breakfast; what appeared to be an antique-novelty shop that was also overflowing with young people; an old three story hotel, a post office and five or six other small businesses that were needed to service this small community.

10:56 AM

“That woman, Margery, you say. She’s your real mother?”

“How do you mean?”

“I saw the way you were rubbing her thigh before, and wondered if maybe you were her step son, or she was your step-mother or something.”

Approaching a sign with an arrow reading: ‘White Lake’, pointing onto a dirt path also to the right, and within seconds hearing nearby shouts and shrieks of what sounded like a hundred people.

Churning water within the crystal clear lake, there must have been dozens of people; wading, simply cooling off in the clear water, and horsing around.

In the water it was hard to tell if the men were wearing bathing trunks; above the water, though, many of the women seen were were bare chested.

Along the shore were what appeared to be at least a hundred blankets haphazardly spread upon the well maintained grassy shore leading to the fine pebbled beach.

According to local lore, its Native American name was ‘Kauneonga’ —meaning lake with two wings. On a local map, White Lake showed as a figure eight resembling wings.

Stalling before answering Sharon’s ‘step mother’ question. “Looks a little crowded her.” Gesturing to what appeared to be a newly made sign reading, ‘Nude Beach’ “How’s about us heading that way.”

Recalling: ‘Little town of White Lake has a really beautiful lake just outside of town…’ the possibly seventeen year old girl had said ‘...with a couple of very private tributaries, where people can go skinny-dipping.’

Having no idea how large the crowd of people they would find at the ‘Nude Beach’. Anxious, extremely anxious to — first of all, wash away the last twenty-four hours of sweat, grime and Calamine dabs from her body, then go skinny-dipping with Franklin, and whatever came next.

“Yeah, sure!” Sharon said. But also wanting to know if the woman he called Margery was a step-mother, or…?

‘Incest’?

Incest between this beautiful young man and that homely older woman Franklin had identified as his mother was an incomprehensible thought to this middle-aged, Midwestern hardware store proprietor.

11:07 AM

Still searching for a comprehensible way to describe life with his mother, Franklin and Sharon were silent as they followed a well beaten path through somewhat dense woods leading to the first of the two ‘tributaries’ that would allow nudity — along with whatever else unsupervised communal nudity might bring.

This beach within the woods nowhere near as beautiful as the first, as ground hugging weedy growth spotted the earth from the treeline to waters edge.

However there were far fewer people and far less noise.

Not that they were alone, mind you, because there were numerous people in the water that appeared to be more intent on physical closeness than horsing around.

A number of couples on blankets were outwardly engaged in suggestively sexual activities.

Sharon could see one couple actually — as though in the privacy of their own bedroom, Sharon could see one couple actually openly fucking.

Perhaps the small town of Bethel, and smaller yet hamlet of White Lake had — so long as the activities of the Woodstock people were away from and not within sight of their population.

Perhaps Bethel and White lake had suspended their morals for the financial gain the thousands of people coming a few days before in order to locate themselves — as had Clyde and Sharon Murphy and Margery and Franklin Binkowski , along with the following unexpected hundreds of thousands for the three days of the Woodstock Festival of Music and Love.

11:22 AM

Never being in this position. Never in such an openly sexual atmosphere. Never seeing people in various stages of openly sexual activity.

Never before hearing the moans of a woman as she was openly engaging in sexual intercourse.

Thinking she should feel disgusted and outraged at being led to and witnessing this scene of open debauchery.

She wasn’t.THC remaining within her system?

Still stoned on maharajah?

Voyeurism not an attribute of middle-aged Sharon Murphy. However being here with this young man...With this beautiful young man with the long dick, Sharon Murphy sensed the warm flow of bodily preparation fluid saturate the walls of her vagina.

As for Franklin?

In truth the seventeen year old boy at Sharon’s side seeing only — seeing only the fully nude body of his mother— Now erotically visible, the sight of a field of completely nude people...

One couple actually fucking within sight sexually stimulated the seventeen year old boy as he’d never before been stimulated.

The semen slicked glans no longer shrouded by foreskin as Franklin’s penis rigidly extends from between the left hem of his shorts half-way to his knee.

Apparently voyeurism and t exhibitionism were two accepted traits for this seventeen year old boy.

Though the area had been cleared of trees and thick brush, there were scattered smaller bushes within small growing weedy areas large enough to spread a blanket if some amount of privacy might be required.
Walking midway through the blanket strewn beach area, pointing to a spot a bit up an embankment alongside a moderate sized bush.

“Want to park there.”

“Seems about as good a place as any.” Sharon said.

11:27 AM

Flapping the blanket open. As Sharon smoothed the wrinkles, Franklin— his penis no longer distended, dropped his shorts and naked now, standing fully exposed, Sharon’s breath catching as for the first time seeing this, in her mind, twenty year old man completely nude.

Oh, God!

Marijuana still governing Sharon’s thoughts, actions, emotion, or simply because this middle-aged hardware store proprietor from Cincinnati, Ohio was horny as hell and desperately wanted to…

11:29 AM

Blue sky suddenly obliterated by a huge, quickly moving thunderous rain cloud.

Standing with arms outstretched, Sharon welcomed the deluge of warm rain as it washed sweat and grime, dust and grit from her hair and body.

Slipping out of the skimpy two piece bathing suit.
Naked now. Fingers scrubbing the hair upon her head and the growth of hair upon and into the vaginal fissure and rectal areas.

Embarrassed?

Hell no!

Joining Franklin to make their ‘letting everything hang out’ journey from their, now rain soaked blanket to the lake.

Female heads turning as…

Seventeen year old Franklin Binkowski is tall and lean and has a thinly muscular, light complected torso… That is noticed — along with, and especially due to his outstanding feature that, once again is prominently, rigidly jutting eight inches forward before becoming enmeshed within barely seen, light blonde pubic hair.

THC possibly bringing mid-aged Sharon Murphy twenty-nine years back to the past;— to age seventeen and her last beauty pageant.

Sharon’s face still beautiful. Sharon’s body?

No longer draped within yesterdays body clinging diaphanous dress...

Though not noticed by the approving male eyes that had followed her from blanket to lake: Sharon’s waist and hips are slightly thickening along with — Heavy breasts sagging considerably more than at the time of her last beauty pageant. Light pink nipples flattening in the moist heat, causing both to appear near nonexistent.'

Arms, buttocks and thighs remaining visibly taunt due to the lifting of heavy cartons containing hammers, nuts and bolts, and wrenches of all sizes.

Noticed only to the lady herself; looking downward from between— in her opinion, ‘old lady’ saggy breasts, Sharon had noticed a slight bulging of her belly, causing this mid-aged woman to consider doing more of the lifting of heavy cartons containing hammers and nuts and bolts.

Noticing only the beauty of this mid-aged woman, there is not a man within sight of Sharon that would not sexually swap places with Franklin.

11:32 AM

Still deluged by rain.

Feet sinking to shinbones in the muddy shoreline as Franklin and Sharon waded from the shore of this hidden wing of White Lake into deeper water.

Following Franklin until able to surface dive as…
Pulling the knot that held his pony tail, rain sodden golden hair falling to his shoulders, Franklin dipped until, water covering his head, fingers massaging dirt, dust and grime away.

Swimming a distance from Franklin, then swimming back, Sharon placed both arms about his waist, bringing their bodies tightly chest to breasts.

“I can’t swim.”

Sharon’s right hand lowering…

“She never taught you?”

“Never had the need to.” Franklin’s breath catching, as feeling Sharon’s fingers tighten about his fully erected penis.

Sharon’s left arm about his neck as — feeling the sharp prod of his penis poking into the soft area between belly button and vulva.'

Sensing an additional surge of internal heat. Sharon’s right hand masturbating the long hard shaft held within her hand as…

Tightening the arm about his neck as, bringing her lips to Franklin’s lips… Her tongue to Franklin’s lips.

Kissing Franklin.

Slowly masturbating Franklin.

Franklin’s lips though remaining pursed, as though reluctant to kiss an old hairy lipped aunt.

Sharon’s tongue pushing harder, Franklin’s lips pressing tighter as…

Feeling a series of sharp pulsations from the underside of Franklin’s penis, as…

Tilting his head sharply back breaking all facial contact, with a loud moan Franklin ejaculated in the clear water of White Lake.

Next: Woodstock 13: Franklin’s Story