The Lawn Boy Ch. 02

Writer's Note: This is a story for adults over eighteen years of age about adults over eighteen years of age. While the story line is true the dialog has been compressed for the sake of time and space. Safe sex was not an issue in the early sixties and seventies, but should be a concern for everyone today.

*****

Mrs. K was one of my married lawn customers even though her husband, Horace, was not retired. I had agreed to mow their lawn mostly because of the sexy smile and very ample cleavage Mrs. K displayed when she asked me; she even seemed pleased that I had noticed her assets. Mrs. K and Horace were probably in their early fifties and younger than many of my customers.

From the start, I thought they were a strange couple; Mrs. K was an attractive, vibrant, outgoing lady with a tanned, hour-glass figure, but Horace was just the opposite. He was a timid, pale, and socially awkward kind of guy who wore his slacks almost to his arm pits. Because he was so nervous and high strung, he couldn't pass the driver's test to get his license so Mrs. K. had to drive him everywhere. He never looked anyone in the eyes.

It was obvious that Mrs. K wore the pants in the family and she looked good in them too; her bottle blonde hair was always styled perfectly. She was always dressed for a tea from the time she drove Horace to work until after Horace served her dinner; Horace did all the cooking and cleaning so she could look good all day long.

She would tell her husband, "Now Horace, give Will a nice tip; he has done such a good job."

"Yes Dovie," He would reply as he pushed his dark, rimmed glasses up on his nose, carefully counted out ten dollars from his wallet, and then added two more for a tip without ever looking me. At eighteen I was not aware of the idea of dominate/submissive relationships; I just thought Horace was, what my friends and I called, pussy whipped.

Mrs. K was one of several women who began to pay closer attention to me during my senior year. As I stood at the back door in my low slung cut-off jeans and covered with sweat, she would move close to me and rub her hand over my shoulder and comment on how muscular and tall I was getting; at five ten I was a couple inches taller than her perfectly shaped, five foot, eight inch frame and I relished her attention.

I noticed that she was showing more cleavage than usual and her nipples often pressed against the fabric of her blouse in a very inviting way; she would smile when she noticed that I noticed. I knew she was flirting with me and I savored every bit of it; I played it cool as if I was an innocent boy. I had already learned that I didn't need any smooth lines with mature women; they would let you know their intentions when they were ready.

When I first began mowing their lawn, I rarely saw Mrs. K except when I went to the door to collect or if I entered the back yard privacy area to mow around the pool where she often sun bathed nude; at first she would wrap herself in a towel and rush into the house when I opened the gate. I thought it was strange of her since she could tell by the sound of the mower when I would be ready to mow the back yard. During my senior year, when I opened the gate, she just picked up her towel and walked gingerly toward the house then she looked back at me and smiled.

She began to engage me in conversation about school, but the topic would quickly turn to my girlfriends, how many I had or did I have a "hot" date for the evening.

"I'll bet those young girls at school just go crazy over you," She would say as her eyes dropped to the small crop of newly acquired dark hair in the center of my chest that trailed downward around my navel and into my low slung cut off jeans.

While I had tapped my share of juicy, high school girls, I wanted Mrs. K to know I also had experience with women; I just smiled at her comment. She may already have known about my experience since she often frequented the shuffle board courts for lunch and cocktails with several of my other "customers", some of whom were known to kiss and tell.

Just before graduation Mrs. K called me at home one evening and asked me to stop by to see her that she had a little something for me for graduation. When I stopped by, she handed me a small, wrapped gift; inside was a money clip with my initials on it and a fifty dollar bill.

"I think, now that you are an official grown up, you should call me Dove."

Since she had not yet picked up Mr. K from work, I used the gift as an excuse to give her a "thank you" hug. When I wrapped my arms around her, her body melted against me and time seemed to stand still as our bodies moved in unison to our breathing. I dropped my hand to her firm, mature bottom and pressed her against my swelling cock; Dove lifted her head and kissed me passionately. We were breathing heavily when we broke contact; my cock was in full rigor causing my jeans to bulge considerably as it strained to get free. Dove's face and chest were flushed.

She fanned herself with her hand, "Oh my, I'll have to tell Horace how much you liked your gift. I know he will be pleased," she said as she looked admiringly at my very obvious bulge. I was certain she wanted to touch it so I stood there several minutes, but she did not move her hand toward it.

I thought her comment about telling her husband was made to tease me, but she later informed me that she had, indeed, told Horace in detail what happened, including my hard-on, and that he had gotten aroused listening to her describe the event.

I always mowed their lawn on Saturday about mid morning and usually finished just before noon. Dove would invite me into the utility area and call Horace to come and pay me; I was usually sweaty, but that didn't keep her from standing close to me with her breast pressed against my bicep as she asked me about school or if I had a hot date the night before. Horace would show up usually wearing an apron over his clothes carrying a dust cloth or dust mop. She smiled while Horace carefully counted out my money then added two dollars for a tip. When Horace returned to his chores, she would linger and talk to me for several minutes as we looked each other up and down; it became almost a game.

"I just can't get over how you have grown this past year," she would say as she rubbed her hand over my chest.

The Saturday morning after my graduation, Dove greeted me as usual wearing a light, cotton, summer dress that buttoned up the front just enough to show off her more than ample cleavage and short enough to display her shapely, tanned legs to mid thigh. After Horace carefully counted ten dollars then added two more for a tip, I thanked him for the graduation gift and he left to do his chores without even looking up. Dove invited me to have lunch with her. I pointed out how wet and dirty I was, but she had already planned for that.

"You can shower in here; I have a pair of clean shorts my son left, you can put them on," she said as she showed me into the mud room.

I accepted her invitation and as soon as she walked out of the mud room I stripped off my shorts and climbed into the shower and scrubbed down. Just as I stepped out of the shower the door opened and Dove walked in with a towel.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were still in the shower," neither of us reacted to the intrusion as I stood there in full view; she walked closer, looked me over, and smiled as she handed me the towel. Our hands touched as I took the towel from her; the touch caused an immediate reaction. My cock pulsed and began to swell. She seemed pleased by the reaction then she turned and walked out. I was pleased that she not only saw me naked, but she also saw my reaction to her.

When I put on the cut offs that had supposedly belonged to her son, I immediately noticed they appeared to be new and had been cut off shorter than mine, just barely covering my equipment; probably with the intention of being too short. I walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but the shorts and a noticeable bulge.

Dove looked me over and said, "Well, they fit you nicely even if they are just a little short," she said looking at my crotch with a smile.

"Yeah, hopefully nothing will get out."

Dove giggled.

Horace walked into the kitchen, "Darling, Will and I are going to have lunch in the sun room; would you set up the slide projector and screen for us? I want to show him our vacation slides from St Croix. After you serve us, please tidy up the mud room and put Will's shorts in with our clothes to wash. If you finish your chores you are welcome to join us." She turned to me and added, "I have the most wonderful husband."

He very meekly replied, "Yes Dovie."

It was obvious that Dove had planned for this event in advance; Horace served us a variety of finger sandwiches, cheeses, and white wine on a silver tray. We sat on a sofa facing each other and talked while we ate; I was certain that the sight of her cleavage and slightly open, creamy, smooth thighs that her "son's" shorts would not contain the stirrings going on in them. Dove explained that her son was from a previous marriage and that she and Horace were not intimate in the ordinary sense.

"My wonderful husband gets so aroused that he has premature ejaculations as soon as he touches me; it's impossible for us to be intimate in the usual ways so we have invented other ways."

She seemed to evaluate my reaction to her comment before continuing.

"We recently met an out of town man who offered his help; we met him at a hotel downtown. Horace sat on the bed and watched as the stranger stripped off my clothes, threw me on the bed, and mounted me; it was wonderful having a man between my legs after such a long time. After the man left, I let Horace clean up the mess then I let him masturbate all over my breasts. He loved being cuckolded and talked about it for days afterwards."

Dove seemed to delight in telling me the dirty details as she glanced at the bulge that was no longer completely contained in her son's shorts; she laid her hand on my thigh just below the swollen head of my cock. I had never heard the term "cuckold" before but quickly caught on to its meaning. Of course I doubted that poor Horace and anything to do with the decision to cuckold him, but I could certainly understand him enjoying watching his sexy wife get fucked; even as a young man I had very strong voyeur tendencies myself and enjoyed watching friends when we double dated and shared a motel room.

She smiled then continued, "Our marriage is very unconventional, but it works for us. I let him spoil me to no end and when he is lax in his duties, I lovingly discipline him."

I wondered what that might entail, a spanking or something much more severe. It became clear to me that Dove was the queen bee and Horace was only a drone who served her.

She looked at me with a coy smile then changed the subject, "I enjoyed my "thank you" hug the other day."

I replied, "So did I; I had wanted to do that for some time."

"I thought about it that night when I went to bed and I wondered if you did too."

"Of course I did; I have thought of little else since them."

"Did it have the same effect as when you hugged me?" I assumed she was referring to my erection and nodded that it did, "I wanted to touch you, to feel how hard you were." I moved her hand and laid it on my exposed, turgid cock. "Did you stroke your cock as you thought about me?"

I nodded again as Horace walked in, refilled our wine glasses and removed the serving tray; Dove, not only didn't remove her hand from my cock, but she gave it several squeezes as Horace picked up our plates and napkins then put them on the tray. Horace went about his duties and didn't seem to pay any attention to his wife's hand on my cock.

Dove turned on the projector and the first slide was of her in a bikini with her back to the camera looking out over the ocean; it was an amazing sight.

She laughed and gave my cock a gentle squeeze at my very sincere, "Wow!"

In most of the slides she was dressed in sexy, tropical outfits for sightseeing that showed her cleavage and shapely tanned legs, but the first one was still burned in my mind. Near the end of the set she stopped.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for you to see the rest of them"

"Oh, why is that?"

She smiled a coy smile, "I'm not completely dressed in some of them; in some of them I'm not dressed at all."

I knew she really wanted me to see them, but she wanted to tease me first. Most young guys hate being teased, but I had learned to love the game of being teased and I found it very tantalizing. The right amount of teasing can keep me hard for hours.

"I have seen you naked a number of times as you walked into the house from sunbathing; besides, you saw me naked after my shower. I should get to, at least, see slides of you naked," I purposely used the more crude word, naked.

The first slide in the set was a full frontal shot of her walking on the shore line nude. I had seen her nude from the rear on several occasions, but seeing her from the front I immediately notice the stark contrast between her bottle blonde, styled hair and the dark, perfectly shaped triangle of pubic hair.

By the time we finished seeing the remaining dozen slides of her on the beach in various stages of undress her hand could no longer conceal my engorged cock. Dove took charge of my predicament and had me to stand up; she unfastened my shorts, adjusted my completely swollen cock to a vertical position and examined it thoroughly before covering it with kisses. There is something very special about seeing your turgid cock being held by elegant, slender hands as beautiful, red lips kiss it. As she returned it to my shorts and zipped them up, she looked up at me with a serious look on her face.

"Will, there's something we should talk about," I raised my eyebrows with interest as she paused to collect her thoughts. "Sometimes when a young man and a mature woman have a close relationship emotional ties can develop and that can lead to hurt feelings; I just want to make sure that we don't end up in that kind of situation."

Dove looked at me as I tried to decide just how to address her concerns and put her mind at ease. I wanted to be very direct about my less than honorable intentions about my beautiful neighbor because I felt certain we had a common goal; we both wanted to fuck each other.

I began, "First, I want you to know that I greatly admire you as a woman and as a friend, but I can assure you that I don't have a Mommie complex and I'm not interested in any emotional involvement. Secondly, you are a beautiful, sexy woman who has aroused every fantasy I have ever imagined. And lastly," I had to pause to boost my courage, "I want to shower your beautiful ass with kisses, taste your sweet nectar, and inhale your aroma, and then I want to fuck you until you scream."

Dove smiled; her face and chest were flushed, "Oh my god! That was just what I needed to hear."

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her passionately.

She took my hand and led me to the large "master" bedroom, "This is where I sleep alone; Horace insists that I have my own room."

Of course I knew that Horace didn't, or couldn't, insist on anything, but if that was what she wanted me to believe, it was certainly okay with me. The décor was completely feminine without a hint of male presence; several walls were covered with full length mirrors. She then led me into a large walk-in closet filled with women's clothes and shoes but not a hint of men's clothes or shoes.

Dove placed her hands on my hips then looked me in the eyes, "Would you like to unbutton my dress?"

I looked her in the eyes as my fingers worked deftly unbuttoning each button; when the last button was open I pushed the dress off of her shoulders, it fell on to the floor around her feet.

For several minutes she stood there for me to take in the beautiful sight I had often fantasized about; she was wearing a pair of full cut, white lace panties, sheer enough to see the shadow of her dark patch of pubic hair, and a matching bra sheer enough to display her hard, brown nipples. She selected a short, kimono style, silk robe from one of the racks. I took her in my arms and we kissed passionately for several minutes; our hands explored each other.

When she broke our kiss, I unfastened her bra and slid it down her arms; again, I just stood there for my eyes to absorb her amazing beauty. Her large, D cup size melons decorated with half-dollar size, brown areolas rose and fell as she breathed; they were evenly tanned without a hint of a tan line. I pulled her into my arms and pressed her bare breasts against my chest for several minutes.

When she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the short robe I stooped to kiss each nipple before tying the sash around her waist, leaving a gap open down the center of her torso.

She then led me to the large bathroom adjoining her bedroom; there was a sunken tub large enough for two people, a shower big enough for more than two people, a bidet, a toilet, a long vanity cabinet, and, again, lots of mirrors.

"Would you like to relieve yourself?" She asked nonchalantly.

Dove stood beside me; her partially covered breasts pressed against me while she rubbed my lower back. I unfastened my shorts and tried to point my swollen cock downward toward the center of the bowl; I had to bend over to adjust my aim. I felt Dove's hand move downward into the back of my shorts. She gave each of my cheeks a gentle squeeze then moved her hand between them; a finger pressed against my virgin ass then I felt her nails gently claw the back of my cods. When I finished I gave my cock several good shakes and returned it to my shorts but did not zip them up; I turned to wash my hands. Dove pressed her bare breasts against my back and ran her hands up and down the front of my torso. My cock sprang out of my unzipped shorts like a bird in a cuckoo clock. She giggled then ran her finger over the large, white drop that appeared on the tip.

She paused then said, "Would you like to watch me relieve myself."

"Of course I would."

"I love being watched at everything I do. I sometimes let strangers see me when I'm home alone; of course it's by accident. I sometimes forget to draw the drapes when a deliveryman comes to the door or completely button my blouse when our insurance man stops by," She giggled then added, "I accidently exposed my breast to a young man handing out religious tracts. I'm terrible, but I do love being seen."

She moved to the front of the toilet and lowered her full cut panties to her knees as she sat down; I got my very first up close look at the perfectly shaped, triangle of dark pubic hair I had seen in her vacation slides. As soon as she sat down she reached for the tissue holder and rolled off what she needed then sat with perfect posture, her hands folded in her lap. It was a classic image that could easily replace the portrait of Whistler's Mother for all time. I stood in front of her and bent over to kiss her as she tensed her core muscles and pushed the liquid from her bladder; it began as just a dribble then became a powerful stream making that whizzing sound that only women make when they pee. While her golden stream splashed into the bowl, she reached for my cock to reexamine it.

"I have wondered how many juicy, young girls have you have impaled on your beautiful cock," She leaned forward and gave it several kisses before taking it completely into her mouth, "Do young girls know how to suck your cock?"

"A few of them do, but they don't do it very well."

After the last few drops fell she leaned to one side and dabbed at the last drop or two with the tissue then stood and pulled up her panties.

"Would you like for me to use the bidet too?"