Mrs C

This is a lengthy story covering many different subjects. Be warned that some fetish concepts are explored.

*****

When Mr. Caruso next door unexpectedly passed away, I attended the funeral along with my parents. I think that the entire neighborhood turned out. The Carusos were popular, friendly people and his sudden passing shook everyone. It happened in April, and after I returned home from graduating college I noticed a lot more of the neighborhood people out doing physical activity. Whether it was a coincidence or because Mr. C's death was linked to a bad heart compounded by no physical activity is debatable.

I was home for the summer. Through good networking and wise internships, I was among the "lucky" ones who graduated college and moved directly into a full time salaried position in my chosen field of study. My parents and I had gone through some long talks over Christmas break and then in the spring. The story boiled down to this: over the years they had saved well over two hundred thousand dollars to go towards my education. But I landed a full ride scholarship to play baseball. They held onto that money just in case I washed out.

I didn't but I also wasn't anywhere near good enough an outfielder and hitter to even get a call to hit the minors. I was okay with that; I had grown tired of baseball. My team did make it into the second round of the playoffs this year, and that was exciting, but when I walked off the field for the last time, I announced that I was hanging up my cleats for good. Besides, I had a good-paying job waiting for me.

The upshot of all this was that my parents chose to take the money that they had saved and splurge on a two-month vacation traveling at their leisure in Europe. They wanted to experience life in the old country, they said, and that just wasn't possible when hopping from hotel to hotel, city to city. They were going to spend a week in Rome, for example, just because they could.

As my older sister was already married and had a little girl - and lived about six hours away by car - she and her husband were not able to watch the house. A compromise was struck. I would live in the house for the duration of the summer to watch it and take care of it, and when they returned home I would move out into an apartment of my choosing. It was a good solution for everyone. I got free room and board for the summer; they had someone watching the house.

I got home Friday night after my first true week of "work." It was a hot, sultry night, the kind more associated with mid-July rather than mid-June. It was close to eight-thirty and I was just getting home. We newbies at work headed to a Friday happy hour to celebrate our first week of work, and of course our first paychecks. There was jubilation, of course, but an equal amount of grousing. Earning money meant the damn student loans had to start being paid.

I wasn't drunk when I got home, but maybe - if pressed - I'd admit to perhaps having one drink too many. It was kind of strange walking into the house in which I'd lived my entire life but having it devoid of people and noise. My mom was a busybody - she would have attacked me to get the skinny on my first days on the job. My dad would have looked fondly over at me, and would wait for my mom's onslaught to end before his would begin. I admitted that I would miss that, a little bit. Coming into the dim, empty home was not as rewarding as I would have thought it would be.

We have an in-ground pool. Nearly everyone on the block does. I debated whether to start texting friends to come by, but the more I thought about it the more I wanted to relax in some solitude. I grabbed my phone, a speaker and my trunks and went out to the pool. After turning on some tunes I dove it, swam around a bit, and then hauled myself up onto a float. I laid back and felt a really, really nice sense of calm. And a little bit of pride.

I must have fallen to sleep, because the next thing I knew I was shivering cold and the clear night sky was out. I rolled off the float and swam to the edge and hauled myself out. A light on in Mrs. C's house drew my eye, and I did not expect to see anything. But then the lady herself walked to the window and drew the curtains closed.

It took all of maybe four seconds. It doesn't take much to etch a visual into memory, though. Mrs. C was, among all of my friends, the queen MILF of our neighborhood. Even her size didn't matter to me or my friends. She was a statuesque goddess of a woman, standing easily six-foot. Her body was a study in feminine curves. The booming chest, the narrow waist, the booming hips and butt, and the sturdy, thick legs supporting that substantial torso. She was also very pretty, not quite gorgeous, but I'd seen her once or twice made up and ready to go out. Her not-made-up look was pretty and made up she was smashing.

I had not planned on staring up at her window, just as I'm sure she had not planned on having me standing there toweling off from the nighttime swim. And maybe she didn't see me because I'd left all of the lights off. In any event she drew the curtains closed and was at least bare-chested. I looked upon those behemoths for the first time, and I felt the wind sucked out of my lungs. Like I said, it doesn't take much to know that they were impossibly large, hanging down and probably weighed a ton. But fuck, they were perfect - at least in my opinion.

She had moved away and flicked the light off. I went back into the house. Needless to say I was sitting in front of my computer not long thereafter! My right hand moved at a blur and the result was the usual messy one.

The next morning I slept in. Only a week and I missed the luxury of sleeping in late. Every day that week I had risen at six to leave by six-ten so that I could still get in my usual hour-long workout. I stretched out in bed, angling my feet down and arching my back up off of my bed, all while idly reaching down to stroke my morning wood more out of habit than sexual arousal. The need to use the bathroom ended that and my first weekend spent alone in the house and as an adult in the workforce beckoned.

The trouble was, I had nothing to do. I drove to the gym and then jumped on my mountain bike for a fast, hard 6-mile ride. I was back at the house by one and it took all of fifteen minutes for boredom to set in. Having nothing better to do, I went to the garage and fired up the mower. It usually took me about an hour to do our yard, and it was a pleasant if boring walk in circles. When that was done, I pulled my car out of the garage and studied it.

It was an old and dented with pockets of rust in the wheel wells. It had over one hundred twenty-five thousand miles. I opened all four doors and wheeled out the trusty Shop Vac and gave the interior a thorough cleaning. Intent as I was on my job, when Mrs. C tapped me on the shoulder, it scared the hell out of me. I squawked loudly, and damn near hit my head on the roof of the car.

"Oh sorry!" she exclaimed, backing away a little.

I shut off the vacuum. "It's okay, you just scared me a little bit, that's all."

"You were intent, I didn't know how else to get your attention!" she said. A sweet smile formed on her lips. Although she wore a black tee-shirt that did not let anything show through, it clung closely to her curves. The image of her nude upper body popped into my head. I had to force that thought away.

"It's okay, what's up?" I said cheerfully.

"So, a few things," she said. "I hope you don't mind my interruption?"

"No no, not at all," I assured her quickly.

"Good. So I understand that you're staying at home until your parents come back. Right?"

"Yes."

"Would you be interested in making some extra cash from me?" Her smile faltered a little, not quite as sweet. "I'd rather pay you to mow the lawn than some service I don't know, and I haven't the slightest clue how to even turn the mower on," she explained in a rush.

I looked at her yard; the grass was tall and thick and looked very unkempt, especially next to my freshly-mown one. I hesitated, and she jumped back in.

"Fifty bucks a cut?"

I looked up with some interest. "Um." Then I smiled. I did not have the heart to turn her down. "Yeah, sure, I'll do it, no problem."

Her face showed instant and complete relief. "Oh thank god," she said softly. "I was afraid I'd have to figure out how to push that damn thing. It looks so scary!" she admitted with a grin.

"You said a couple of things?"

"Sure, I saw you looking at your car, I guess preparing to wash it. When you're done, will you help me with my two? I...I'm...I'm lonely," she said as her voice picked up speed. "I just want someone to talk to for a little bit I won't bite I promise will you please help me please?"

She sounded so much like a college girl pleading to get her way that I had to bite off a harsh chuckle. "Sure, why not. Although..." I said and tilted my head. "You know, I'm wondering something myself."

"Oh? What?"

"I've never gone car shopping before, and I'm thinking that newly working and all, maybe I ought to get a new car?"

She looked my beater over, and succinctly nodded her head. "Yes, I think that might be a good idea. Although, and this coming from my recent hardships, you need to make sure that your budget works out before spending a lot of money."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm just...I can't imagine driving this into work again on Monday."

"Tell you what. You mow, wash the cars together, and if you want I'll join you to help shop for cars." Her voice dropped, becoming conspiratorial. "Most salesmen simply can't help but to give me the best deals on the lot!" Her smile turned teasing. "Paul used to love it when I did that simpering little girl routine, oh please mister please? No man can resist that," she concluded firmly.

Having just been swayed by it, I had to agree. "Sure. Well, let me get gassed up and then I'll do you...I mean, your yard, and then we'll wash up the cars."

I know that she had caught my little Freudian slip. She tilted her head and giggled softly. "No problem, honey," she said warmly and patted my arm. "I'll leave you to it."

Two hours later I was cursing myself for agreeing. Her yard was a snarling cluster-fuck of angry, tight, clumped-up grass that was thick as fuck. I had built up a substantial sweat pushing the mower through that yard, and ended up having to make two complete passes in order to get it looking half-way decent. She poked her head out when I was done. She was still in her black tee-shirt and khaki shorts. She helped me complete the cleaning on my car and assisted washing it up, and then we looked it over. It would do.

She then backed both of her cars out of the driveway. There was a nasty little red Mercedes and a sporty but old black BMW. Both were immaculate - unlike mine - and the work went swiftly. We talked easily, which surprised me. I didn't think I'd have that much to talk about with her. But she was quite good at getting me to talk.

It didn't hurt that I took nearly every opportunity to stare at boobs, butts and legs every chance I got. The only conclusion: what a woman!

It was close to four-thirty when she returned from changing clothes into something a little more appropriate. I was still in khaki cargo shorts and a tee-shirt, but I had at least changed into a clean, dry one. She slid into my car like she had done it for years, and we drove to a dealer. I had no idea what I wanted, and told her that on the way. She advised to take my time and shop around a little bit.

I had to mix my own frugalness - a habit instilled in me by my fiscally conservative and frugal parents (dad is an accountant) - and my needs to do things outside like mountain bike. We looked at a few SUVs but nothing much caught my eye.

"I'm hungry," I said as we left the second dealer.

"Me, too," she agreed sounding relieved. We went to an Applebee's where I noticed that a lot of people stared at us. I got why they stared at Mrs. C. After that we ended up at a big used car lot. I realized I had many more options in my price range, and took a nice 6-cylinder Jeep for a test drive. It rode poorly but I was hooked.

I let Mrs. C take over. She worked the salesman, and I just sat back and observed. She was good, proving to the salesman that she had a brain in her head and then turned around and did her boobs and body do some more talking. I walked off the lot paying three thousand less than I would have otherwise, and thanked her all the way home.

I pulled in and we got out to admire it. "Hey, let's take the top off and go for ice cream," I said. I had her fifty bucks in my wallet. "My treat."

"Well, now that's an offer a girl just can't resist!" We took the top off and hopped back in and drove to a nearby place to get our ice cream. It felt oddly like a date, although a productive one. I could not help but notice how the seat belt rested between those big boobs of hers. The sensation of a date never really went away, not even on the ride back when I took a few opportunities to look directly at her as she spoke. My eyes never directly stared at her tits...but it was nice to see them in my peripheral vision!

It was close to eight-thirty when we pulled back into my driveway. She thanked me for spending the time with me. "I've been so lonely," she admitted quietly. "Today was nice."

I ended up back in the pool. Again, I debated and decided against calling friends. Since I wasn't drunk I didn't pass out on the pool float. Instead I laced my fingers behind my head and simply let the world pass me by. It was kind of nice.

When darkness fell and the day's residual heat began burning off, I began thinking about getting out and heading inside to go to bed. I saw that the same light where I'd spied Mrs C the prior night was on again. I tried not to stare at it.

Once again my backyard and pool area was cloaked in darkness. And once again, Mrs. C showed up at the window. Once again, she had her top off. And this time, she stood there and looked directly down at me. She smiled, and actually waved and then closed the curtains on me. I felt a rash of fear from being busted but on the heels of that thought that if I was busted and in trouble she would not have waved. What did the little wave mean?

A moment later the light flipped back on. The curtains opened. She was standing there, and after satisfying herself that I was staring at her, cupped both enormous breasts under her hands. She held them for me, and wiggled her upper body a little. The distance was such that making out facial expressions was difficult but even so I thought I saw a sly smile on her face as she lifted one breast, brought it to her mouth, and sucked her own nipple.

My reaction must have pleased her, because she dropped her boobs, waved again, and walked away flipping the light off on the way out. I stood there for maybe a solid minute, before giving up any further analysis. It crossed my mind that I ought to go over there and pound on her back door.

Once that thought hit, it stayed, and I took three hesitant steps to the back of my house and then almost as if by magic I found myself at her back door, knocking insistently on it. When she approached - smiling of course - she wore a sheer housecoat that was semi-transparent and hiding practically nothing. She slid the door open. "Hi."

I walked in and slid the door closed behind me. I lifted my hands gently to her cheeks, took one long, deep look in her eye and moved in for the kiss. I have kissed many girls but never one that was at my height and never one who melted into me quite like she did. The deep-throated purr of pleasure rumbled from her throat during the kiss, and my hands wrapped around to cup that thick, full ass of hers. I pressed my lower body against hers, and she reacted by pushing back into me, my thick needy erection now trapped between our two bodies.

She broke the kiss. "I'm so glad you got the hint," she whispered. She turned her body while saying this, her fingers trailing over the tent in my shorts. She lifted her hand, and wagged her finger that I should follow. We walked through her home and started climbing the stairs. I was overcome by the need to reach out and run my hand over her ass as she stepped up one to the next.

"You like my big ass?" she asked after stopping at the top of the steps.

I came up behind her and wrapped my strong arms around her waist, pushing her forward until she was pressed up against the wall. My hands slid upward until I palmed her breasts and then roughly pressed my hips against the soft expansive flesh of her backside. "Yes," I whispered into her ear.

She made a little kitten-like noise of pleasure, thrusting her hips backwards to meet mine by way of response. My response was to lift both hands up to her massive breasts and pull hard.

"All the boys love my tits!" she crooned. "You do too!"

"Hell yes I do. I love your body. I could get lost in your body."

She turned, forcefully, breaking my hold with ease, and then wrapped her arms around me and pulled me tight. Our lips were just about touching and her eyes glinted with excitement. "I'm counting on you getting lost in my body." Our kiss resumed, fiery and demanding, tongues doing battle for supremacy all of it hot and wet and delightful. No college girl had gotten me this hard, this needy, this wanting so quickly and with such power. All that flesh held a certain amount of sway and yes, I was going to discover every inch of it.

She pulled me into her bedroom. She broke our kiss and turned and walked to the bed, and bent over pushing that big, round ass and those soft, meaty thighs at me, bracing her upper body with her arms. She wiggled that bottom. "Take me fast," she moaned. "Worry about talking later!"

I pulled at the gauzy fabric covering her body until her backside was exposed. I pulled on my still-wet trunks until I was out of them, and then stood holding my rigid, demanding cock in my hand. I gazed down for a moment, admiring the view.

I moved forward, and my cockhead contacted slippery, heated flesh right away. Just that first touch brought a harsh, ragged cry from her. "Ooh fuck I need your cock!" she moaned. "Put it in me, don't make me-"

I didn't let her finish, holding and then shoving roughly. Her words cut off from a loud gasp. I knew that I was well-endowed, and her vagina clamped tightly around me. In truth she was far hotter, tighter and easily wetter than any woman I'd had to that point.

"Oh fuck you're so thick, you're filling me up baby now fuck me with that big cock, fuck me hard!" she pled.

For some reason I didn't do exactly that. Instead, I gave her ass a sharp but not overly hard crack. "No," I said, "No I think I'll fuck you exactly how I want to fuck you." My voice was low, and with a slowness I did not think possible I unsheathed my erection from her body. She shuddered and groaned.

Now nice and slick, the ease at which I slowly buried my rod in her left her moaning. "Oh fuck oh my god that's so fucking good!" None of my ex-girlfriends had ever started sex this wordy before. Some got there towards the end, but she was already hot to trot and near-begging. Once again I withdrew as slowly and steadily as I could stand.

The heat of her sex was a burning call, the tightness resulting in delicious friction. My cock throbbed already, just holding it there, just the head inside, listening to her little cries. "Put it in again!" she cried out. "Oh my god please put that cock inside of me again it feels so good!"

Once again I slowly penetrated her depths, my eyes closed to savor the sensation, my hands roaming over the warm expansive flesh and pressing my legs against her hot thighs was pure silky-feeling delight. I could not stop myself then, and had to start a slow, steady fuck. Each penetration brought more moans and cries from her. I saw her hand reach back.