Gardening at Mrs Chesters Ch. 10

Linda Crawley pulled a face in her drivers mirror as she adjusted her blouse collar. Another dreary meeting at the golf club. Her husband, a senior medical practitioner, had joined a year earlier and soon after, dragged her along too to 'events'. He had joined partly to play but mostly to generate contacts and business for his lucrative and fast growing private practice. Although she did learn and played a little of the game herself she attended mainly out of loyalty to her husband; that and the rather old fashioned arrangement whereby 'lady members' were expected to prepare the monthly reception for regular competitions. Linda was a keen cook and enjoyed the social gathering of other spouses which took the edge off the boredom, but it had been a struggle for her until recent months.

Of late however the son of one, of the other members, had come to her notice. Jonathan was 19 and though young for his age, not the brightest button in the box, and a late developer, he was "easy on the eye", she had decided. She was not alone in her conclusion. Though he had been at some of the clubs events over previous year after turning 18, she had either not seen him or simply ignored him as immature. Instead, it was her friend Dorothy Chester who had brought him indirectly to her attention again after one particular occasion a few months back.

When, after calling at her home, she had discovered him there working away on Dot's garden. And she liked what she saw of this slim, tall, fit, obedient pliable and attractive youth. Not as competition for her husband but more as an amusement and perhaps inspiration for a little 'self help'. She was not sure whether Dorothy had employed him for his looks or his work ethic, but he had achieved quite a transformation in Dorothy's rear garden, if not yet as far as she knew, of her front. She suspected Dorothy was also enjoying the sight of her little helper in his shorts and shirt, heaving and sweating, but Dot was extremely circumspect in revealing any view she might have had of the lad.

Husband away on a regular teaching trip had left Linda at a loose end. While Jonathan's presence at meetings of the club had now been a draw for Linda, he had not been around for a few weeks. She had now learned that this absence followed a short stay and operation in hospital and secretly wondered if Dorothy had been working him too hard either in the garden or in the bedroom. It turned out, it was neither. The boy had instead unfortunately had a minor cycling accident whilst traveling home from her house. She had only just learnt this from the club secretary Veronica, otherwise Linda would have happily popped down to the hospital to see how he was and to catch a glimpse of his fine form in pyjamas or even a hospital gown. By the time she knew of it, he was out.

And so it was to her surprise that as she emerged from her large and expensive 4 x 4, one that would never leave the high street let alone the road and enter a field, she noticed a cyclist approaching the club buildings down the long driveway. He was moving fast, still pedaling down the slight hill, towards the car park where Linda was now standing. It was the unmistakable form of the lovely lithe lad himself.

She straightened her dark blue creased drill cotton jacket over a wide equally dark blue drill cotton pleated skirt bare legs and flat shoes. Linda was no natural beauty or trend setter, but she enjoyed the crumpled cool look for these late summer months and little or no makeup. She was short and a little heavy 'in all the right places' according to her husband, dark haired in all the right places and a few wrong ones too, large breasted and wide bottomed. 'Built for comfort if not for speed' was another expression he favoured. However she had an attractive face, a ready wit and a cheeky grin, and the ability to tell a dirty joke or two. which she knew, from her younger days, was a draw to many a fine male. The respectable Dorothy for all her longings for some fun with Jonathan, would, if pressed, have described Linda as a little vulgar a little down market who had been lucky enough to catch herself a wealthy doctor husband.

She waited by her car and pretended to search one of her bags for something. She was parked rather near to the short bike rack and knew he would aim for that. She made as if not to notice him as he approached, still at speed, on his bike. She heard and looked up as if surprised. He was just as tasty as she remembered watching him from the kitchen, while he was working over Dorothy's garden a few months back.

"Oh hello". She said acting surprised.

"Hi..." he grunted shyly as he came to an abrupt stop, the tyres of his bike sending loose gravel flying as he slammed on his breaks at the last minute.

"Steady, you were going very fast." Linda looked at his bike and then at him as he dismounted. He lifted and swung his smooth bared leg over the saddle and stepped three paces to the rack.

He was dressed in a black hoodie, black shorts with white piping and long black socks which had slid down to his long legs to the ankles, above his black running shoes. His floppy dark blond hair was over his eyes and he hauled it back with his hand, from over his smooth, fresh if a little ruddy cheeked, face. She was disappointed he was not in body hugging lycra, just some rather baggy shorts, but his thighs were just as smooth and toned as her last glimpse, only now she noticed some scarring just below his left knee.

"I was sorry to hear about your accident."

"Oh, er yeah, came off on my way back from work a few weeks back now."

"Are you OK?" asked Linda hoping he would point to a few battle scars.

She was not disappointed.

"Er,... yes my leg, thought I had broken it, but it was the ligaments, strained or something when I came off. They had to do a small operation and I was in overnight." He glanced and then pointed downwards.

Mention of the operation and the hospital stay reminded him of the trick someone had played on him there. It must have been one of the nurses, the fat cheeky one most likely. He realized she had been keen to get him out of his clothes and he was quite resistant in showing anything. She must have applied the tourniquet to him when he was recovering from the anesthetic of his operation. He remembered how painful his first erection had been when he got home two days later. He had peeled back the foreskin and discovered the dental floss tied around it, buried under the crease of his frenum. To reduce the pressure even a little it was all he could do to make himself 'go down', thinking of all the most boring things possible so as to reduce the 'bite' of the cord into his manhood. Eventually somewhat deflated, he was able to get nail scissors just inside the cordon and to his considerable relief cut it. He had been so sore for a week afterwards that he couldn't pleasure himself without a lot of discomfort, but after two weeks, he soon made up for his enforced restraint. It was a cruel joke to play, as was the theft by someone, of Mrs Chesters watch which he must have had with him at the time too.

Linda needed no encouragement to admire the boys legs so she moved forward and bent a little. She reached out a small hand and gently touched him where there was some slight scarring.

"Do you mind?" she asked a little late.

"Er... no that's OK... but its nothing really."

"Oh I bet that was painful." Linda said pulling a face of pain and sympathy.

Although his skin was a little marked still it was mostly very much untouched and offered a delightfully smooth texture to her touch. She brushed his leg with the back of her hand and the reversing her approach she slid her fingers and then her palm slowly down his calf and then back up a little beyond his knee as high as she dare. Apart from a light downy covering, his exposed lower thigh was almost hairless and covered in a thin veneer of sweat. His flesh felt, soft, warm and tender. She had to make a conscious effort not to keep rubbing and nor to move her hand higher until she reached the lads crotch.

Jonathan found her motherly familiarity and concern a little strange, surprising and awkward but somewhere else he also felt a little stirring that he could not quite identify. Her ministrations were warm and comforting.

It would have been so easy for Linda to have moved her hand up further to the tops of his toned thighs and onto or preferably for her, up into, his shorts. Though the cloth was not tight making it hard for her to see if he was at all aroused as lycra would have, these shorts did have the advantage of being loose and therefore accessible to a wandering hand. And Linda would have been delighted for hers to slide slowly under the white piping of his shorts up to his, most likely, piping hot groin.

Resisting temptation at this time anyway, she removed her hand and glanced up at the boys face. Handsome but innocent and as she now noticed, dripping with sweat.

"Wow, you look hot". She said.

There was a slight embarrassed silence as the words double meaning was registered.

Oops the words had come out without her thinking. She smiled slightly.

Jonathan looked a little surprised and gasped.

At first she thought his sharp breathing was a reaction to what she had just said but then she realized he was simply drawing breath after pounding the pedals. As if to avoid talking about what she had just said, he stooped slightly then bent over letting his hands touch his running shoes. He most likely didn't realize quite what he was doing as in so bending he presented his small pert bottom in Linda's direction. The shorts, though baggy, bunched up neatly around his buns, the central seam sliding forcefully into his cleft. They looked incredibly smackable to Linda but she knew she had to resist their siren call.

"I'm not sure that came out right" she added sniggering, while he was bent over but she knew it had. Then she also realized that the boy was also trying to reduce his embarrassment by bending over and away whilst taking a few deep breaths from his exertions. She paused and then trying to ease the situation said:

"I mean you are dripping with sweat."

He gasped for a second time from the efforts as Linda glanced down again at his delicious bottom.

"Gosh", she thought and let out a very quiet low moan of her own as she thought of all the places on his yummy body that his sweat was trickling from, and to.

He straightened and turned a little.

"Oh...yeah I was trying for a personal best." He explained.

"I'm just a bit winded from all the effort". He breathed heavily and she watched his chest heave as he sucked in air.

"Going as fast as I could all the way pretty much" he said quickly pulling a face.

"And did you make it?" asked Linda letting her eyes wander down to his bared thighs once more.

"Er... no not quite." He added.

"So you didn't go all the way" she added with a slightly dirty laugh. She could never resist.

Linda glanced at his upper half again and was puzzled at the thick cotton fleece jacket he was wearing.

"Isn't that a bit warm for your cycling?" she asked, tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie.

He hadn't noticed but now he realized partly why he felt so warm.

"Yes, but the air was cool when I set off."

Linda lazily imagined his nipples, small and particularly perky from the cold air streaming past him when he started out from home.

"But not now?" she added helpfully and hopefully.

It was enough to trigger him.

He reached up and tugged at the zip to his jacket and pulled it down quickly.

Linda stared, hoping to catch sight of a firm set of developing abs, but the zip came down revealing instead a plain white t shirt.

She was momentarily deflated. She was not however to be too disappointed as the boy then unthinkingly reached down with both hands and scooped up the baggy cloth. He pulled it up to his face to mop his brow. Linda stared again as he now revealed a flat toned creamy stomach, but there was, as yet, no six pack. Like his legs his bod was smeared with the sheen of sweat from his exertions on the bike in the sunshine. Above the little inward navel his tasty if undeveloped torso was topped by a pair of small dark crisp nipples. Like the rest of him it seemed, he was smooth but unshaven and not an ounce of fat. God, he was young and scrummy she thought. Linda had won on two fronts. As he wiped his face with the cloth to remove the sweat he was not only sustaining her access to this delicious view, but also preventing him from seeing her ogling stare. Her eyes roved over him hungrily and she bit on her upper lip from frustration, knowing she could look, but not touch.

Then, too soon, Jonathan let the shirt drop and as it began to fall, so Linda pulled her eyes off him in case he saw her looking. She knew then that she would need some help from this lovely young man in the coming weeks, at her home, but, how to make it happen? She was also wary of scaring him off if she made a move too soon and too far. Though not in her nature, she would have to take it slowly.

"Are you coming for the meeting then Jonathan?"

"Er well no, I was coming to practice my swing at the range area." He mumbled in his teenage way.

Pity, she thought. She would have enjoyed watching him at the meeting, if she was careful to sit facing and so conjure her fantasies about him. If he crossed his legs in those shorts she might even get an eyeful too. She was beginning to feel slightly aroused.

He had propped his bike next to the rack and was unloading his cycle pannier beside it when a sudden breeze blew up and rattled a few loose slates on the roof, moved the branches of the overhead ash tree and last of all was just enough to unbalance his bike. It started to keel over and then fell with a crash. It toppled away from the racks and towards the cars and to one in particular, Linda's smart new 4x4.

The lad was all of a fluster as he looked up from emptying his panniers. Linda was surprised by the sudden gust and the following clatter and her eyes which had been focused now on enjoying the sight of the boys kneeling form, shot up and over to the wing of the motorcar. She was just in time to see and hear a scratch being ground into the paintwork as a sharp handle bar and brake leavers slid down the side and clattered to the ground.

The poor boy was mortified.

"Oh I'm so sorry Mrs Crawley..." he blathered getting up to catch the bike but failing just as it hit the ground.

Linda was straight on it.

"Just look at that dent and there,... That scratch."

"What a mess."

The lad stared hard at the car's wing, but didn't really see much wrong with it.

The truth was that neither had Linda, but she had been working on an excuse to get him on the hook to help fix up her place. This alleged calamity was a wonderful means of doing so. Better still he would have to work for her for nothing to 'pay off' the cost of the repair. She wondered and hoped that Dorothy did not have any current plans for help from her little helper.

The lad had now picked up and wheeled his bike back to the racks and locked it up. It was as he was doing so, glancing now at his rounded firm calves, that Linda noticed how large his running shoes were.

"Oh my god..." she whispered to herself. They were huge. From experience she knew that with big feet invariably came a long penis. She hoped that her 'rule of cock' was true for this particularly nice specimen as well!

"I'll get a quote for the repairs to the bodywork in the week Jonathan. I am sure we can work something out. I suppose I do have quite a few jobs that need doing to the house."

She paused.

"You are grown up now my lad, and I gather from Dorothy that you are rather handy with a tool."

Jonathan paused and wondered whether he had just heard another comment with a double meaning, but rejected it, deciding that the fragrant Mrs Crawley in her white blouse, formal jacket and wide pleated skirt, worn over a pair of sensible shoes was incapable of such.

"Oh yes, that would be great. If I can help at all, thank you." He said dumbly.

"That's alright young man. I am happy to compromise" she added quietly with a smirk.

And to herself came the accurate if crude summary:

"Young, dumb, hung and full of cum" indeed.

Young - certainly looks it for his age, she thought glancing at him as he took another couple of items from his panniers.

Dumb - he was so easy to fool about the damage.

Hung - she had just noticed the enormous size of his feet which was promising.

And full of cum? For the moment, the jury was out. She had no idea of the size of his balls amd though she was already smiling to herself like the cat that got the cream, she would just have to wait until it was delivered by this boy in person, with her assistance of course. She would love to bring the best out in his development.

As she watched the boy move around his bike she wondered idly if he was a spitter or a squirter. Just how loudly might he groan when he did deliver? She smiled at the prospect of giving the lad a thorough winding up, followed by an uncontrollable milking at her hand. She warmed to the idea of developing him from dribbler to gusher under her tutorage, but she reminded herself in her enthusiasm for this new project again, that she would have to take things slowly so as not to scare him away.

End of Part 10