A Lovely Day in the Neighbourhood

I was still getting used to being on my own. My wife and I had divorced almost a year ago and when she packed up and moved out, it was the first time in many years that I had no one else to think of as I planned whatever it is that I would be doing. I had been in a funk recently but could feel that time had begun to work its healing magic and I was getting ready to renter life amongst the living.

I had bought my wife out as part of the settlement and managed to keep the house but unfortunately since the divorce, I had lost interest in the yard and it showed. It was starting to look a little unkempt and shabby. I didn't want to become known a bad neighbour and decided that this beautiful sunny Saturday would be the day that I start to put my life and yard back together again.

Dressing in an old favourite baggy t-shirt, sweat pants and sneakers, I poured myself a coffee and sat down on the deck at the back of my house to make a plan for the day's work. I was actually looking forward to getting sweaty and do some work around the place.

I finished my coffee at about the same time I finished my game plan for the day and without further ado, set off for the garden shed to amass my weapons of destruction such as the lawnmower, weed eater, pruning shears and the like.

I attacked the yard with a vengeance. After putting in a couple of hours of productive work I stood back to take a look at my handy-work. Not bad! It's starting to look like the person who lives here gives a shit after all. I was deep in thought planning my next task when my neighbour shook me out of my stupor.

"Hey Dan, it's not going to get finished by standing there and looking at it you lazy slob!"

"Lazy slob? That's nice talk coming from some large breasted tart that hires illegal immigrants to do her landscaping."

I looked over the fence and saw a smiling Mrs. Smith standing there with two glasses of iced tea.

"You know that's not fair Dan, if I had muscles like yours I would do my own yard work too."

"Oh ya, well if I had huge tits like yours I wouldn't have to do my own yard work. All I'd have to do is flop those big babies around a bit and everyone would come running to help."

Mrs. Smith laughed like a schoolgirl and even blushed a bit. Since she had become widowed, I found it surprisingly easy to cheer her up by being a little rude and risqué with her. I found that as time went by, we became more and more risqué to the point I openly commented about her big tits. She seemed to like the attention and the mild, well-natured abuse. For an old broad, she was really built. My reference to her huge tits was an understatement. She had a set of big; natural tits that would make most surgically enhanced porn queens run for mommy and the rest of her body didn't look bad either. Somehow, she had managed to keep her waist nice and small and whenever I got a chance to see her in a skirt, it was obvious she had a great butt and nice legs to go with her huge rack. For such a short woman, barely five feet tall, she was really well put together.

It looks like you can use a little something to quench your thirst big boy. How would you like a nice cold glass of iced tea?"

"Yes please, it would really hit the spot right about now thank you."

"Good, it's settled then. Get your sweaty, smelly body over here and sit yourself down on the deck and we'll enjoy a nice cold drink together."

"I'm not sure you want me over there. I'll probably attract flies from miles away based on the way I smell right now."

"Nonsense, get your skinny little ass over here and sit down."

Pulling a rag out of my pocket, I wiped the sweat off my face as I walked over to the gate in the fence that separated our properties. Mrs. Smith had set the drinks down on a patio table and went back into the house before I could take my seat. She emerged a minute later with a cold, wet cloth.

"Here, wipe your sweaty brow with this, it will help cool you off."

Taking the cloth I smiled and said, "There's no way I'm going to be able to cool off with hot stuff like you around."

"Why whatever do you mean Sir?" she said in a fake southern accent batting her eyelashes.

We both giggled a bit and after taking a nice, long pull on the iced tea, I looked over the glass and in an equally bad southern accent replied, "Why missy, you know full well that any healthy normal male would heat up around a filly that was packing a pair like you."

"I do declare! Now you shush Dan. I declare, you're going to make me blush like a school girl. A big, strong, young man like you wouldn't be interested in the breasts of an old lady like me. I'm sure you think me a bit of a freak for having these big things attached to my little old body."

I dropped the southern accent, looked her straight in the eye and said in a more serious tone, "You know Mrs. Smith, you and I have lived next door to one another for quite awhile now. I don't know you nearly as well as a neighbour should and for that I apologize. I'd like to make sure you take no offence at the banter we have. I suppose it's easy for me to get carried away once in awhile and the last thing I want to do is offend you in any way."

"Why Dan, how sweet of you. You're right you know. We don't know each other very well do we? We must do something about that. First of all, I think you should call me Millie, not Mrs. Smith and secondly, no, I take no offence at our banter. In fact, I quite enjoy it. I'll tell you a little secret and let you know that I enjoy it when you call me names or refer to these huge breasts of mine. I'm not sure why really, I suppose it's because my dear departed husband acted in much the same way and it makes me happy to think a man other than him would notice me."

"You husband was a lucky man Millie."

"How kind of you to say. I do miss him terribly and I feel very lonely sometimes, I suppose that's why I enjoy your company so much. I imagine it's much the same for you now that you're on your own too."

"You've got that right. Sometimes I find myself talking to the walls. It's weird being in an empty house all the time."

"And I imagine it's difficult for a virile young man like you to not have a place to sow his oats. You must have to take matters in your own hands quite a bit to keep from exploding. My husband taught me that a man has to have release a couple times a day or he can become quite ill."

I have to tell you, I was more than a little shocked! This was something I hadn't expected at all. I wasn't sure what to make of this. Was she joking or was she serious? I had to tread lightly here. I thought I'd play along a bit to see where this went.

"Yes, your husband was right. It gets pretty painful if I don't get a chance to, er, well I guess you could say...blow off a little steam."

"You poor thing. I know just what you mean. My husband's mood would improve considerably after he let me service him. Some days he would get so uncomfortable that I would have to service him several times throughout the day."

Service him! What the hell did that mean? As I was trying to figure out what the heck was going on, she continued.

"As a matter of fact, my own health has slipped a bit since my poor husband died. I used to rely on his essence to keep me young and healthy. I suppose I was almost addicted to it. It created such a craving within me that to this very day, I feel the need for it."

"His essence?"

"Yes Dan, you know.... his seed of course. So how do you manage know that you've become divorced? Do you have anyone to take care of your constant needs?"

"Ah, no I don't. I suppose I'm not ready for another relationship just yet. As it is, when I feel the need, I have to rely on myself and this right hand of mine."

"Tisk, tisk, such a waste. It must be frustrating to have to take care of yourself like that."

"I'll have to admit that it's not very fulfilling." I decided to push this a bit to see where she was going made the decision to push slowly and cautiously. "Although there isn't much I miss about my ex-wife, I do miss her ability to take care of me in that way."

"Yes, I should imagine so. I can't believe a virile young man such as yourself has to resort to... to.... Well, you know what I mean. It's almost sinful to think of the waste."

As I polished off the last of my iced tea, Millie got up, took my glass and started for the kitchen. I got up to thank her and leave but as soon as I stood up she said, "Oh, you not leaving yet are you? I was so enjoying our conversation. Please stay and have another iced tea with me?"

I sat back down and smiled. "Sure, why not? It's a beautiful Saturday morning and I'm sitting here sipping iced tea with a beautiful, sexy woman."

Looking over her shoulder as she went to refill our drinks she said, "There you go again you horny devil."

She returned from the house and placed the iced teas in front of us. I noticed her blouse had a few extra buttons undone and as she bent over to put down my drink, I couldn't help but stare into a mile and a half of cleavage. The kind of cleavage that makes you stop dead in your tracks and stare. And as if that wasn't enough, she gave me a few seconds of sexy eye contact that left me almost speechless.

"Can I ask you a personal question Millie?"

"Of course you can."

"How long had you and Mr. Smith been together?"

"Oh my. I guess you could say he robbed the cradle. He was 24 when he met me and I was just 15. He was working for my father at the time and I knew he liked me. A week after my eighteenth birthday we were married and moved out here. He took my virginity on our honeymoon and was a gentle, patient lover and he taught me how to be a woman."

It was as I suspected. Clearly, if Mrs. Smith wasn't messing with me, she had been conditioned and trained by her husband since she was almost a child and assumed that everything the horny bugger told her was the gospel truth. How am I supposed to handle this situation? Am I supposed to gently put her straight or leave her with her current beliefs? Here was a woman that for about 40 years had been very comfortable but unknowingly living out the fantasies of her husband. To her, whatever he demanded out of their relationship was perfectly normal.

I suppose you could say this was a defining moment. I could do the right thing and either change the subject or maybe even try to set her straight or, I could be as bad as her deceased husband and see if it paid off. The very thought of being able to exploit the innocence of this large breasted woman was giving me a hardon. And, it had been so long since my dick had been involved with anyone other than my right hand, it was tough to think straight. I mean look, here was a good looking older babe that seemed to think that a man's need ought to be taken care of on a regular basis. Well, I'm a man with needs aren't I? What if I was able to take advantage of the situation without hurting her in any way? Would that be a bad thing? Would it be wrong? The little head in my pants was winning the battle over the big head and before long, I was lost in thought about her reference to her husbands "essence" and about her seeming concern for my health and welfare. Am I full of shit? I suppose so but as mentioned, my dick was winning the war over my brain.

I might have been struggling to work through this little mental dilemma but my cock was having no problem working itself into a frenzy inside my sweatpants. My weak inner self decided that I should at least go fishing. I'd offer the fish some bait and if it took it, great. If the fish passed on the bait, I would pledge be a good boy and behave like a good neighbour and friend should.

I needed a plan. I gunned back my second glass of iced tea and mentioned that it really hit the spot and that I didn't realize how thirsty I was. Mrs. Smith fell for phase one of the plan. She immediately offered to get me another refill and got up to get the jug of iced tea from the kitchen. I used this momentary diversion to reach into my sweat pants and slide my mostly hard cock down the left leg of my sweatpants. I chose the left leg because it was the leg closest to Mrs. Smith. Man, for some reason I was really horny! My cock looked positively obscene as it snaked down my leg. You could clearly see the outline of the big spongy head as it made its way almost halfway to my knee. I looked down and almost chickened out. I looked ridiculous. I would never get away with this. If she had any sense at all she would probably run me off her property and call the cops to report me as a pervert. What the fuck. In for a penny, in for a pound. I reached into my sweats and because my cock was still only half hard, decided to snake the head until it was almost on top of my leg. It made an obscene bulge in my sweatpants and I was getting ready to chicken out again when Mrs. Smith arrived back at the table. Fuck it.

She poured us another glass of iced tea and sat back in her chair. She started rambling a bit about the nice job I was doing on my yard and because she was looking me in the eye as she spoke, she didn't see the "bait". I had to do something to draw her attention to the "bait". I picked up the glass of iced tea with my left hand and rested it right on the head of my cock. The cool glass felt good and my dick started to get a bit harder. I started to press the bottom of the glass harder onto the head of my cock because for some reason, it just plain felt good. Moisture was running down the side of the glass and making my sweatpants wet. At least if I started to ooze precum out of the end of my dick it would be camouflaged by the wetness from the glass.

I thought I saw her glance down at my crotch for a fleeting moment but I couldn't be sure. I gunned down the rest of the iced tea and returned the empty glass to its resting spot atop the head of my cock. Even though I'd already had three glasses of the stuff, I held the empty glass to see what might transpire. Sure enough, my little fish took another nibble at the bait and picked up the jug offering me yet another refill. I politely accepted and as she was pouring, I moved the glass just a little whilst pretending to cough. Of course this had the desired result of having Mrs. Smith pour a small amount of iced tea right on my cotton covered cock.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry!" Mrs. Smith used a tissue she was holding to pat the "wet spot" and very soon caught on that she was patting more than my leg. She blushed slightly. "Let me run into the house and get a towel to clean up this horrible mess I've made. I'm so sorry!"

"It wasn't your fault Mrs. Smith ...er, Millie, I think I may have moved the glass when I coughed and besides, it's just my grubby old sweatpants anyway. A little iced tea isn't going to hurt anything."

"Nonsense. You're being far too kind. I'll be right back with a cloth."

Well, I had done everything I could to let the fish off the hook. If the fish took the bait now, I would have a clear conscious.

I was pretty sure that the fish had indeed taken the bait when I saw Mrs. Smith emerge from the kitchen door. First of all, it looked like her blouse was open a little bit more after another couple of buttons somehow became undone. And secondly, instead of returning with a just a cloth, she had brought back a small bowl full of water as well.

Looking very concerned, she said, "Now, you let me take care of that properly. I wouldn't want the iced tea to leave a stain."

Okay, she gets one last shot to get off the hook.

"Really Millie, these are just my old yard pants and it doesn't matter, even if it does leave a stain."

Mrs. Smith didn't answer and instead, dropped the cloth into the bowl and then wrung it out. You could see that she was trying to figure out what to do. There was a tiny bit of perspiration forming on her upper lip and her eyes darted back and forth between the bowl of water and the wet mark on my leg. It was more than obvious that there was no way to deal with the stain without touching my cock and I guess she was having her own inner struggle to figure out whether and how to proceed. I suspected we both wanted the same thing but didn't want to be the first one to make a move.

Millie mustered up her courage and stepped up.

"Okay Dan, let me take care of that."

Millie brought the wet cloth down slowly and then gently started to rub it against the wet spot and therefore the head of my cock. My cock quickly decided that it enjoyed the attention and started to get harder and harder until it was tenting the wet spot up quite obscenely.

I decided I had to play at least a small role in what was about to happen.

Looking as embarrassed as possible, I gently pushed her hand away and covered the head of my dick with my hands.

"Oh my gosh. Millie, I'm so sorry. Please don't get the wrong idea. I have no control over my er, thing and I suppose it's because it hasn't received any attention for so long that it's decided to behave badly. Please forgive me...I'm so embarrassed."

"There's absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. It's a perfectly normal reaction. Now get your big paws out of the way and let me finish." She swatted my hands out of the way and with one hand, grabbed the shaft of my cock just below the head and with the other, started wiping the head of my cock with the wet cloth.

"Really Millie, you don't have to do this." She said nothing but kept at her "work".

She was gently squeezing the shaft of my cock now and was paying far too much attention to the head of my cock.

"You know Dan, I owe you a big favour."

"For what?"

"For chatting with me and bringing back some wonderful memories of times I had with my husband. I know this is a very inappropriate thing to say but seeing your member like this excited has given me a terrible longing for something that I've missed so much."

"What's that Millie?"

"I probably shouldn't say." Millie cast her eyes down and focused on gently rubbing the head of my cock.

"There's no need to feel bashful around me Millie."

"Gosh I love it when you say my name. It sounds so much better than Mrs. Smith."

"I think you're avoiding the subject Millie, what it is that you miss so much?"

"Well, to put it in the most simple of terms, I miss my regular feeding sessions."

"Feeding sessions?"

"Yes, my husband was very kind and he used to let me have access to his member any time I felt the need."

I wasn't sure I should say anything. I was afraid of spoiling the moment. She kept rubbing and squeezing my cock and it didn't look like she was going to stop anytime soon.

"Millie?"

"Yes Dan."

"Do you feel the need right now?"

"Oh Dan, I sure do. If you were my husband I would have been sucking on you a long time ago. But you're my friend and my neighbour and there's no way I could impose on you."

"What are friends for if not to help one another Millie?"

She stopped what she was doing and looked into my eyes.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying Dan?"

"Well, you're telling me you have a need and I would be a liar to say it wouldn't be good for me too."

"Do you really mean it Dan?"

"Millie, if you feel the need to suck my cock right this moment, I would be honoured to be of assistance."

"Don't toy with me Dan. I don't think I could take it if I thought you were joking. Would you really let me suck on you?"

I suppose this is one of those situations where actions speak louder than words.

I slowly stood up, dropped my sweat pants and boxers and stood in front of her. I moved in front of her and sat on the edge of the table with my cock waving around obscenely in front of her face. I was so turned on that my cock looked as if it were made from chiselled granite.

"My goodness gracious Dan, you are very large, much larger than dear old George. And just look at the size of your balls, I'll bet there's a lot of wonderful cum stored inside them. Are you sure you don't mind if I help myself?"