Not a Librarian Anymore

To my surprise, the idea of Mrs. Ryan having a boyfriend didn't bother me because she seemed like she was having fun. What she saw in the moving man I couldn't say, because he looked like he wasn't too smart and I probably read more books in a month that he had his entire life. He did look really muscular though, and looked a little like the Rocky character in the movies. Most likely he wouldn't have to impale himself with a ruler to see if he measured up, although I hadn't seen anything but his back.

That night I had my dream about Mrs. Ryan, only this time I was in her bedroom closet watching her with the moving man, taking notes and getting pointers just in case my chance ever came.

***

The next morning I went to visit Mrs. Ryan as usual, and she seemed to have survived her morning with her boyfriend quite well. The blouse she was wearing was especially attractive, a lime green tank tip with narrow straps that showed a whole lot of the freckles, and as we talked I mentioned that I saw the moving truck here yesterday, offering to help her if he had dropped something off that needed to be put away.

"No Randy, it's just that he was a nice young man who did nice work for me, and I asked him to come back so I could give him a tip," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I was short of cash the day the moved me in."

"Oh, I replied, wondering whether if I did a good job on the lawn I would get something similar as a gratuity.

"Too lazy to unpack any more boxes," Mrs. Ryan announced as she yawned and stretched, linking her hands behind her head and extending her long legs, and I was just savoring the view when I heard a familiar voice.

"LaFountain!" Clay yelled as he came over into Mrs. Ryan's yard and became an unwelcome visitor as far as I was concerned. "The guys are getting together to play ball."

"I can't. I'm doing yard work over here," I told him, and then when Clay looked over onto the patio and saw who I was talking too he smiled.

"This your new neighbor?"

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Clay, this is Mrs. Ryan. Remember she was the librarian at school?"

"Oh yeah," he answered even though I doubt he went to the library much. "I remember you. You look different."

"I recall your face," Mrs. Ryan said, not flinching as she sat like she was, and I was praying that Clay wouldn't make any wisecracks about her.

"Anyway, if you don't want to play can I use your glove?" Clay asked, and reluctantly I brought her over to my house to get it, shrugging off Mrs. Ryan's suggestion that if I wanted to play that was fine.

In the house as I rummaging through the mess on the floor of my closet Clay looked out the window at Mrs. Ryan and chuckled a little.

"Man, did she change. I love those banana tits old ladies have," Clay offered. "It's fun to wrap them around your cock and titty fuck them. I could do without the pit hair though."

"What are you talking about?" I challenged as I threw him the glove and reminded him of his old girlfriend who didn't shave either.

"Carol? Yeah, but she hardly had any hair under her arms, kinda like you Randy," Clay snickered, never resisting the urge to stick it to me whenever he could. "That lady? She's really hairy, but I think I would still fuck her, and I heard plenty of stories about her back at school."

"Why in the world to you think she would have anything to do with a kid like you?" I replied.

"I'm not a kid, I'm a man," Clay reminded me as he grabbed his crotch lewdly. "And when they get a look at my monster whatever their age they can't resist."

"Right. Look, I got stuff to do."

"Later," Clay said as he turned to go, pausing in the doorway and looking over at the window he had been at, and commented, "Man, LaFountain, I bet you stand up her and jack off all day looking at your neighbor. Surprised you don't have binoculars."

With that to my relief he left, also glad that I had put away the binoculars this time, but also chagrined that he knew me way too well.

***

"Morning Randy!" chirped Mrs. Ryan when I went over the next day, and except for still in a bathrobe looked none the worse for wear. "I'm a lazy bones today."

"I might be early," I admitted. "Thought I would do the lawn early, before it get hot."

"You don't have to do it again so quickly," she noted as she looked at the grass which had hardly grown since I mowed 5 days ago, but I was ready for that.

"Supposed to rain later this week," I mentioned, although I didn't know the weather forecast and was only using that as my excuse.

"You're the gardener," Mrs. Ryan said while standing up and grabbing her empty coffee cup, her bathrobe unfortunately staying closed. "As for me, I better get into the shower and get some more stuff unpacked."

Mrs. Ryan went inside while I got the mower out of the shed, and after filling the tank started mowing. After I did the part around the patio I went to the other side of the house and did the area next to the shed. I glanced up at Mrs. Ryan's bedroom window, hoping that I could peek through the curtains and would see her in there, but the curtains were pulled apart, opening the window up for the fresh air.

Suddenly Mrs. Ryan came into the bedroom, naked and carrying a big fluffy towel in front of her, and as if she was reading my mind lowered the towel and dried her legs right in front of me, her pale breasts dangling down as she bent over before straightening up and looking right at me.

"I could use some help drying my back," Mrs. Ryan announced, not blinking an eye as she stood there smiling with the towel in hand

"I - uh - have to finish." I think I said, stammering and sputtering like a fool as I looked at my dripping wet fantasy woman, her body even more amazing that I had dreamed. Her breasts hung a little low but then turned upwards, and the crimson areolas that housed her stubby nipples covered the entire ends of her tits, but it was the flaming red bush between her legs that had me in a trance. The wild jungle looked like it was almost glowing and covered anything underneath it.

"That can wait," I was told, and when she tried to reach behind her with the towel to dry her back, her sleek body was fully exposed and she added, "See? Can't reach. Want to help a damsel in distress?"

The rest was a blur. I know I told Mrs. Ryan that I was all sweaty, and I recall she told me that I could use her shower and she could dry me. After babbling something about having to go to work, not mentioning that I didn't work until that evening, I spun around to put the mower away and tripped over the wheel in the process. The mower got put away and I hurried home, once again screwing up big time.

***

The next morning I was sitting on my front porch, my routine ruined by my embarrassing behavior in her back yard which had been doubting whether I could ever face the woman again. She had invited me inside - inside her bedroom where she was stark naked - and offered to let me dry her off, and I didn't do it. Even my naive brain knew what the invitation meant, or at least I thought I did, and I had chickened out.

Down the street came Clay, tossing my glove up in the air as he neared my house, and I was actually happy to see him because maybe playing a little baseball would help me take my mind off of things.

"Hey, is there going to be a game today?" I asked as Clay got to my porch, but he just threw the glove up and me and snickered and kept walking.

"No time for games today. I've got better things to do," Clay declared as he went next door to the cottage at the end of the street, striding up the three steps confidentially and knocked loudly on the door, all the while looking over at me with his arrogant expression on his face.

The door opened and Clay walked in, and then the door closed behind him. This must have been some kind of joke. Perhaps he was trying to sell her something like those candy bars our Junior Business Club sold as a fund raiser, but that was impossible because school was over and done with. Still, this couldn't be.

I waited for Clay to come back outside, figuring he might have offered to do her yard work instead of me, but the door stayed closed. Once thing I knew for sure. I was NOT going to go sneak over through Mrs. Ryan's backyard and look through that window again.

That resolution lasted about 15 minutes, but I made the trip over like a dead man walking, praying that she would be on the patio talking with Clay. The patio was empty. I went around to the side of the house where the shed was, praying that the bedroom would be empty or at least the window would be closed with the curtains drawn.

Clearly this was a day when my prayers would not be answered because they were both in there, with Mrs. Ryan sitting on the edge of the bed and Clay standing in front of her, stepping out of his underwear as I stood outside with a perfect view of them from the side. My stomach felt like I had just gotten off the Tilt-A-Whirl ride at the carnival as my dubious friend stood there and wiggled his cock at Mrs. Ryan, and not only did she grab the thing Clay looked out the window at me and grinned that shit-eating grin again.

It felt like my sneakers had taken root there because while kept telling myself to walk away I stayed, unable to take my eyes off of this horror show. Clay had his hands in my neighbor's hair and was messing up her scalp while her mouth went up and down Clay's cock, and when he pulled it out and I saw what she was sucking on I was stunned.

I had never seen another guy's cock hard before, never getting a look at that moving man's dick, so this was the first boner besides my own I had never seen and if I thought I had an inferiority complex before,looking at what Clay was holding upright while Mrs. Ryan licked his balls made it worse.

My friend's dick looked gigantic compared to what I was used to looking at, a long thick beige weapon that sparkled with my neighbor's spit and seemed as long as Mrs. Ryan's arm, and the head of the thing looked as big as a plum as he rested it on the librarian's scalp. When Clay had enough of getting his balls licked he pushed Mrs. Ryan onto her back in the bedding while kneeling on the carpet, lifting her slender legs on top of his broad shoulders while lowering his face into the blazing red jungle.

I had a general idea what Clay was doing, even if I had never had the chance, and what he was doing seemed to please Mrs. Ryan because she was squirming in the sheets, flailing her arms, kicking her feet and grabbing at the bedding. Soon she was grabbing her breasts and moaning, and that was when Clay stood up, his cock still stiff and even angrier looking while he climbed on top of Mrs. Ryan. When he put his dick into her, although I couldn't see I could tell by the way they both groaned.

I know that it's called making love but the way Clay was thrusting with what seemed like all of his might into my skinny neighbor, it looked more like a savage coupling. Mrs. Ryan however, was not complaining but instead clawing at Clay's back so hard I could see the red streaks, and just before it was over, prior to Mrs. Ryan howling like a banshee, my supposed friend looked over at me with a red face and a tortured look and yelled while his back arched, "You love my big cock don't ya?"

After holding himself up over Mrs. Ryan for a minute, Clay rolled over and rested next to my neighbor, the two of them breathing heavy while I walked away, and while I don't think I was crying my eyes were watery as I went home.

"That should have been me," I kept mumbling as I went home, but in my heart I knew I could never make Mrs. Ryan act like that no matter how much I liked her so it might have been for the best.

So I went home and went to my room, trying to read and finding I was unable to concentrate on the page. Like a moth to the flame I went back over, prepared to act like I hadn't seen anything if Mrs. Ryan was out on her patio and just came over to finish the part of the lawn I didn't do yesterday. They had to be done by now.

Nearing the shed, I was determined not to look over at the window but the squeaking of the bed frame had my head turning. There they were again, with Mrs. Ryan on all fours and that asshole Clay kneeling behind her humping the woman like a dog. Both of them were dripping with sweat as my alleged friend thrust in and out.

Mrs. Ryan was practically looking out the window as Clay fucked her but her eyes seemed to be rolling back in her skull. Mrs. Ryan's breasts hung down to the bedding like this, the long pale tubes flopping around wildly until Clay leaned down and reached around her, grabbing them and kneading them roughly.

"Bet I'm gonna make you cum again, ain't I?" Clay snarled, and for a second I thought the former librarian was going to correct his English like she had done to some at the circulation desk over the years but her mouth stayed open and the whites of her eyes still shone.

Right up until her eyes lowered and I found Mrs. Ryan staring right at me.

I took off, not ready to wait for the grand finale. All I knew was that I would never be able to face my neighbor again, and while it wouldn't be easy to avoid her I had little choice. She had caught me looking at her through the window, like some kind of perverted Peeping Tom, so I figured that once fall came and I started college I'd be busy and wouldn't be outside in the cooler weather either.

Three hours later there was a knock on the door, and with my Mom at work I went down to see who it was. I peeked through the blinds and saw who it was so I backed away, but I think the blinds moved when I touched them so I was busted.

"C'mon LaFountain, I know you're in there," he yelled, so I opened the door and stepped onto the porch, figuring that if I didn't let him in he would never leave.

"What do you want?"

"Wanted to ask you how you liked the show," I snickered. "You sure spent a lot of time out there."

"I went over to get the mover, and all I did was peek in," I alibied badly.

"That broad is crazy. She can't get enough dick," Clay said. "I had heard stories about her being a slut but I never believed them until now."

"You're an asshole, calling her names after she was nice enough to - you know," I replied angrily. "And if she's a slut what does that make you?"

"Cool down man. You're just pissed because I fucked the broad you have a crush on."

"Screw you."

"She wanted it so bad, the last time she did some crazy shit to get me hard again. That's how bad the pig wanted it."

What happened in the next minute was unlike me. I hauled over and punched Clay in the mouth, something I had never done to anybody before. Proving that not only wasn't I a lover but I wasn't a fighter, Clay barely blinked and after rubbing his jaw threw a punch that landed on the bridge of my nose, putting me on my back.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Clay challenged as he helped me up, and while I feared my nose was broken it wasn't busted but just bruised, although it flowed like a faucet for a while. "I didn't want to hit you man. We're friends, and friends don't fight over pussy."

"You won again, as usual. Good bye," I told him as I went inside and closed the door, shutting the rest of the world out for what I thought might be forever.

***

The next few days were long and tedious, because without my morning visit with Mrs. Ryan there was little to fill my time until the evenings when I was scheduled. I did look out front to see if anybody was visiting my neighbor but I only saw a young woman stop there around lunch time once and I had also vowed to not look over at her patio, but I happened to glace over eventually and saw Mrs. Ryan there relaxing in her lawn chair.

I had initially looked over because the way her lawn was half mowed was starting to look ridiculous, so I resigned myself to running over some time to finish when she drove into town. It wouldn't take long and I figured I owed her that much, but I ended up looking past the grass and saw her.

Not only was Mrs. Ryan out there, she had moved her chair over to the edge of the patio so she was facing our house a bit, almost like she was flaunting herself in front of me. She wasn't reading but just sat there stretched out, and the white tank-top she had on was one of my favorites because it really showed her nipples.

"One last time, for old times sake," I told myself as I lowered my pajamas, and after I was done I took a shower and went into town, because if I stayed around the house all day I knew what I would spend the day doing.

***

My scheme to avoid Mrs. Ryan and finish the lawn when she would leave the house blew up in my face because wherever she had gone, it only took her a couple of minutes because I had barely started before I looked up and saw Mrs. Ryan approaching me wearing a light blue windbreaker to cover herself up as she seemed to do whenever she left her place.

"Hello stranger," Mrs. Ryan chirped, smiling like she always did but while I tried to return the greeting my offering fell flat.

"Haven't seen you in a while Randy," she reminded me.

"Uh, sorry. Lots of stuff to do. School coming up before too long," I explained, the nonsensical excuse the best I could come up with.

"Nasty bruise you have around your nose," she noted, and I blamed it on bumping into a door instead of Clay's fist.

"I think we need to talk honey," Mrs. Ryan said, and while I said that I had to get the lawn done because I had things to do she shook her head and took my arm, leading me over to the patio.

"I seemed to have upset you," Mrs. Ryan told me, and by not taking off the windbreaker gave me little choice but to look her in the eyes as she spoke.

"No," I mumbled, shrugging and murmuring some nonsense.

"I thought I was giving you what you wanted," she continued. "Don't you like to watch?"

"Huh?"

"You're a voyeur, aren't you Randy?" she asked, not angry but acting curious like my guidance counselor acted when he wanted to know what my career goals were.

I had a vague idea of what the word meant but it sounded dirty so I shook my head no.

"Oh. I thought that you must be a watcher," Mrs. Ryan said before making it clear why she thought that way.

"I had noticed you at your window - I assume it's your bedroom window - looking down my way right after I moved in," she noted as I cringed inside. "Then I saw that the screen had been removed so I assumed you did that so you could see better. If I'm wrong please stop me."

"Sorry. I - I guess maybe..."

"If you're about to apologize please don't Randy. I'm far from mad, in fact I'm flattered. Perhaps I have a bit of an exhibitionist streak in me, because I've never had a problem with being looked at and I'm happy that I still have appeal to some."

"Then I happened to see you outside my bedroom window when my young friend from the moving company came by and you seemed quite taken by what we were doing."

"Curious. I heard noises when I was getting the mower and glanced at the window," I replied meekly.

"Curiosity can be a very healthy thing," Mrs. Ryan responded while reaching over and drumming the back of my hand with her slender fingers. "Again, I had no problem with that although I'm not sure how Mario would have felt. Regardless, I had started to think that maybe you were attracted to me. Silly that a woman so much older would think that, but I do have many youthful friends.

"I was. Am. Attracted to you," I babbled while sweating like a horse. "I liked you even when I didn't see you- like you are."

"Then how do you explain the next day?"

"Huh?"

"The next morning when you came over and I announced I was going to take a shower? I made sure the curtains were wide open and when I was done in the bathroom I came into the bedroom. You were outside looking. You recall this?"