Mowerman

byArt Martin©

John woke from a deep sleep upon hearing the door slam shut. Without glancing at the clock, he knew it was 7:30 AM and that Margie was gone for the day. Rolling over he tried to go to back to sleep, but after few minutes of tossing, he hefted his 260-pound frame out of the twin bed in his sons' room and headed for the kitchen. He had things to do today and wanted to get them done before he played a round at the public golf course.

As always the newspaper was on the table, coffee was ready and Margie had laid out fresh fruit and a cereal bowl for him. He poured a cup of coffee and then selected a box of cereal from the three choices Margie had out on the counter. Thoughts of Margie spending the day with rowdy bunch of fourth graders made him smile; she had always loved kids.

"Shit," he muttered. The rift between them seemed to be widening with each passing week. He lamented the obvious, that after 22 years of marriage their sex life was in atrophy.

He knew he took her for granted, just as she seemed to take him for granted. He only fucked her on the weekends and even then it was pretty much a perfunctory one-way affair lasting all of maybe five minutes. Margie just wasn't interested anymore. She pretty much just lay there until he was finished. In the process, John had given up on trying very hard to be a good lover.

The telephone rang. John saw on the Caller ID that it was Margie's brother, Mike. Knowing what Mike wanted, he let the answering machine take the call.

"Lazy shit!" he cursed as he ate his cereal. John had never much cared for Mike and he wasn't about to be pressured by Margie or anyone else to lend him any more money. For their entire 22 years of marriage Mike had been thrown in his face was someone who going to be somebody. Mike did this and Mike did that, Mike has such a great job, Mike is so smart. ‘Why don't you do something with your life?' was a familiar refrain He snorted, he had done something and now he was enjoying the payoff. As for Mike, ‘that dumb bastard doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground.'

After he knocked Margie up in high school he did the honorable thing and married her. No one, not his parents nor her parents offered a helping hand. They both had to work to afford a dumpy trailer. They dropped out of school and he had to settle for a GED. Upon graduation, he joined the Air Force, learning to be an aircraft mechanic.

Mike who was a little older than Margie went to State U with his parents footing the entire bill. They then footed the bill for his Master's degree in business. By the time Mike actually went out and got a job, John had been in the Air Force for five years, 25% of the way to a military pension. He was a Tech Sergeant and they had two boys Brad and Jeremy.

Over the next fifteen years, John and Margie were stationed all around the world, England, Germany, Japan, Korea as well as numerous duty stations in the states and several TDY stints in various hellholes in the Middle East. Along the way, Margie picked up a teaching degree. At thirty-eight, he retired with a full pension as a Chief Master Sergeant, and immediately found a job as an AP mechanic for a major airline.

Mike on the other hand, had two failed marriages with three children he hardly ever saw and he had jumped companies several times on his ‘climb to the top'. The only time he ever got out of the country was once to Cancun during his second honeymoon. Then the last company he was with went belly up, taking his job and all his 401-K money with it. He couldn't afford all the child support, nor maintain the payments on his big house and fancy cars, and Mike was now in bankruptcy, begging John for rent money on an apartment he couldn't afford.

"Get a job!" snorted John as Mike finished his baleful plea to the mechanical device.

His thoughts turned back to Margie. He realized that they really hadn't done anything together since they settled in Rockford. They hardly saw each other during the week and during the weekends they seemed to go their own way.

Titan Air was very flexible and he had opted to work four, ten-hour shifts a week, giving him three days off. Once a month he had to pull a weekend shift, but generally he was off Friday, Saturday and Sunday. His hours were generally 2 PM to midnight, giving him the mornings free.

His schedule clashed rather badly with Margie's. He would come home around one or two in the morning after a few beers at a titty bar and would invariably wake Margie up. Then she would have trouble getting back to sleep and she had to get up around 6 AM to get ready for school. Then she would wake him up, and he'd have trouble getting back to sleep.

They decided that since the boys were gone and were now both in the military, that there were other beds available in the house. He should simply sleep somewhere else when he got home. At first John wasn't too keen on the idea, but worked out great, at least sleep wise despite the size of the bed.

He scanned the entertainment section of the paper and finding something interesting, resolved to make reservations at a comedy club for that evening. He would wine and dine her, entertain her, then bring her home and fuck the hell out of her. Grinning, he felt it was good plan. Margie deserved it.

John put his dishes in the sink and then sauntered off to their bedroom. Slipping on an old pair of gym shorts, he headed outside. The morning dew had already burned off, and that pleased him, as the grass wouldn't clump together as he cut it. After putting on his ‘grass shoes', John pulled the mulching mower from the shed.

Owning his own house, he loved gardening. Nearly every morning he would putter around doing something, mowing grass, clipping bushes, weeding flowerbeds, tending to his prize roses, planting something or propagating new plants. It was a labor of love and his yard showed it; it was immaculate. As always, he started in the back and worked his way to the front.

He finished mowing and started edging the curb and sidewalks. He knew his house would look great for the weekend, but as he looked next door, he frowned. The couple that had lived there when he had bought his house had moved to another state. The house remained empty and unsold for six months and it had looked like hell. John had taken it upon himself to keep the front yard cut, but once someone moved in, he let it be.

They were a young couple with two boys and had moved in about a month ago, but the grass hadn't been cut since they moved in. Now the grass was very high and the weeds were even higher. Grass grew over the sidewalks and the curb. The shrubbery was overgrown. The only flowers were a pathetic half-dead clump in a clay pot near the front door.

He had exchanged pleasantries with them, but really didn't know anything about them. They had two boys about six or seven. She was pretty, in her early twenties. Zeke was a weasel-looking guy, gaunt, and scrubby. John wondered what she saw in him.

As he fumed about the unkempt state of the yard next door and what a lazy ass Zeke was, he realized that perhaps they didn't have a mower and that it wouldn't take him but forty-five minutes or so to get it presentable. He set about the task of cutting the high grass and uncovering the sidewalk and curbs from the relentless runners of St. Augustine grass. It took several passes, each time lowering the wheels of the struggling lawn mower a little at a time to get the grass cut. After edging, he got out a rake and his garden cart and hauled the piles of debris to his compost pile. He was almost finished when the young woman came outside.

*****

"Oh, thank you very much, but you really shouldn't have done that," she said brushing her long auburn hair from her face.

"No problem. I guess you folks don't have a mower," he said with a touch of sarcasm.

"No, I don't. Zeke..."

He cut her off, "My pleasure, Ma'am." He looked her over. She had on a green, jungle print bikini with a matching see-through sarong wrapped around her waist. ‘Nice tits,' he immediately observed. She was nearly a foot shorter than he and seemed very petite, especially when compared to Margie who was definitely not petite.

"It looks so much better! You've worked so hard, the least I can do is offer you a glass of iced tea."

John was thirsty and truly appreciated the offer. "Yes, that would be good," he simply stated.

"Would you like to come in?"

John looked down. His hairy bare chest, legs and arms were covered with sweat, dirt and grass clippings. "Uh, I'm a bit of a mess, and I don't want to track in a bunch of dirt into your home."

Her big green eyes seemed to laugh. She thought a moment before suggesting with a wink, "How about coming around back to the patio. At least you'll be able to get out of the sun."

"Sure, is the gate unlocked?"

"Yes, I think so."

John headed around back. Upon entering the back yard he regretted it. It was overgrown worse than the front had been. He waded through the tall grass and weeds to the covered patio. After a minute or so, she came out with a glass of tea for him.

"Do you like it sweetened?"

"No, just plain." As she handed him the glass, he couldn't help but notice that her eyes darted across his body.

"I was out here working on my tan. I heard you cutting your grass but I didn't realize that you were also cutting mine until I went out front to get the newspaper. You really are kind." She tilted her head and cautiously asked, "John, isn't it?"

"Yes, John Jester and you're..."

"Kate. Kate Miller."

They chatted amicably, Kate refilling his tea glass twice. She had removed the sarong and was lying on a cheap chase lounge in the sun while John sat nearby in a folding chair in the shade. John was enjoying the chat, enjoying looking at her nearly naked, studying the all curves that were definitely in all the right places.

As they talked, he discovered that she wasn't married to Zeke. She claimed that he was an old friend of her husband's, and that he was staying with her for a few months while working a construction job, helping her with the rent money. She didn't come right out and say it, but John got the impression that Zeke was a pain in the ass. She insinuated that he wasn't her type; that he was continually hitting on her, and she wished that he would go, but she needed his dough.

She told John that a drunk driver had killed her husband two years ago and the drunk's insurance company had yet to settle. They had very little life insurance on him and she had been living mostly off Social Security Survivor Benefits. With limited funds available she had to be very careful how she spent her money. A lawn mower was low on the list of her priorities.

John stood up. With a look of disappointment she said, "Do you have go?"

"I'm just going to cut this grass in the back." A few minutes later he was plowing through the thick growth, struggling to keep the mower from stalling. An hour or so later, he had it under control. Kate had joined in and raked the cuttings into several piles, before he hauled the debris off to his compost pile.

Once again glistening with sweat, he headed over to the shade where Kate had moved her lounge chair. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she handed him another glass of iced tea. John suddenly became very self-conscious of his slight paunch. In the two years that he had been retired, he let himself slip and he now vowed to get it under control. Still she seemed to have a look in her eyes that was unmistakable. He blew it off thinking, ‘No way is she attracted to me.'

Kate was indeed attracted to him, as John reminded her of her late husband. John was perhaps a little taller, his hair was a little thinner, and their faces were quite different; her husband had sharp features as compared to John's more rounded face, but the physique was similar. They both were beefy men with lots of body hair.

But what really set her off, was John, sitting there, nearly nude, covered in sweat. It brought back great erotic memories. Jim would come in shirtless, sweating profusely after running four or five miles. He would try to hug her, but she would pull away, shrieking with delight. He would capture her, fuck her and then they showered together, continuing their sexual play. As the memories flooded back, she yearned for the feel of their naked bodies slipping on a layer of sweat as they fucked away. She yearned to bury her face in his sweaty chest, inhale his manly odor and taste his salty skin. She yearned to...

With a start she realized that she was embracing John from the back, her arms were wrapped around him, her nails raking through the thick hair of his sweaty, grimy chest. John was frozen in place, afraid to breathe, fearing that he would wake from this wonderful dream. Her hands seemed to fly away from him and she let out a stifled yelp as if 220 volts had suddenly shocked her. The spell seemingly broken, John turned to face her. As she looked up, her eyes stopped at his groin. His hard eight-inch cock jutted straight out and was tenting the flimsy gym shorts. Her memories flooded back, of her late husband's big hard cock penetrating her, filling her, making her a whole woman.

The fires of her long suppressed desires were rekindled and she looked pleadingly into John's kind eyes. John haltingly took her into his arms and kissed her. Her soft, luscious lips yielded to his gently probing tongue. First tenuously, then with passionate fervor, she returned his salty kiss, as their tongues began a sensual dual of oral lances. John kissed his way up her jaw line. She arched her back as he kissed her earlobe and the hollow behind it, pressing her breasts into his stomach as he ground his groin into her stomach.

She pulled away slightly. The thought that she was breaking it off was cast aside at the touch of her hand stroking his stiff cock through the fabric. Even though it had been years since he'd done it, John deftly and with one quick motion untied her top and discarded it on the ground. She yanked his shorts down and with a quick series of kicks he sent his worn out shoes and then his shorts flying helter-skelter into the yard.

His pretty little neighbor's lips descended to his throbbing man-meat. Like a snake swallowing a frog, she worked all eight-inches into her throat, gagging only once before she inhaled all of him, her lips tightly sealed around the base of his cock. He hissed with ecstasy as she deep throated him, his cock embraced by the smooth, clasping lining of her throat. For several minutes she inhaled the masculine aroma of his sweaty crotch before moving her head so that his cock would slither up and down her esophagus, her lips pulling across the tight skin of his hard cock, extracting all but his broad glans in her mouth, before descending back to the root of his throbbing dick again and again.

John was about to explode in her mouth when she released him. He clasped his hand around his dick, just behind the head and squeezed, until the impending orgasm receded. She stood up, lust filled eyes met lust filled eyes. They passionately embraced and kissed once again. John slowly sank to his knees, kissing her breasts and her navel. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her bikini bottoms and slowly pulled them to the ground, then he licked his way from her dirty feet, up her legs to the prize between her thighs.

It had been a long time since he'd eaten any pussy and he plunged his tongue in between the folds of her pouting labia without any fanfare. Kate moaned in salacious contentment, it had been so long, so long. John explored her juicing pussy with his tongue, tracing the crease between her inner and outer lips, probing into her vagina, teasing her clit. She tasted wonderful and smelled even better, musky but not overpowering, the essence of female. Had he really forgotten how much he loved the taste of a woman's aroused sex?

In the freshly mowed grass she stood spread leg, as his wonderful tongue swirled around and around her clit, driving her ever closer to the orgasm she needed, an orgasm that would help met her incessant but unfulfilled need. She shuddered and began to wail as her orgasm overpowered her. Her body convulsed in powerful explosive jolts of climactic sexual energy, while blinding bursts of multi colored lights exploded in her brain. Knees buckling, she sank to the ground.

Once the beautiful orgasm had receded, she dreamily opened her eyes. She found herself flat on her back with her ankles draped over the shoulders of a big, dirt covered man. He was raking her pussy slit up and down with the broad glans of his long, thick cock, mixing their seeping lubricating juices, preparing for their copulation. She hardly knew the man. ‘What was his name? Jim? No, he's not Jim, oh god, oh god.' He began pressing into her, his broad cock head spreading her labia apart.

"Oh, yessssssssss!" she hissed. "Oh, yesssssss!" Her cunt was incredibly tight and he penetrated her slowly. "God you're big! No, no, don't stop, please don't…Uhhh! Yesssss, fuck me! Please fuck me!" she begged in a near stupor.

John really didn't hear her. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed as he luxuriated in the feel of her young tight pussy welcoming the arrival of his cock. Slowly, so exquisitely slowly, he slid into her body, his thick cock pushing the walls of her vagina apart, stretching her neglected cunt, filling her, making her whole again. He pushed deeper and deeper into her, until his groin was mashed against her groin. He ground his hairy public bone into her still sensitive clit causing her to involuntarily jerk and shudder.

John looked down on the pretty girl, her face a mask of pure lust. He lean forward slightly and treated himself to two handfuls of firm tit meat. Kate flexed her kegel muscles, massaging his stiff rod buried deep in her needy cunt. John hissed, "God damn girl!" and slowly began to withdraw, withdrawing completely from her.

Kate looked up at him pleadingly and begged, "Please, don't stop! Oh god, please don't stop. I need..." She arched her back as she felt the big cock penetrating her again. "Oh, yessssss! Oh god yesssssss!"

John began a slow steady fuck with long deep strokes. She slowly turned her head from side to side, groaning salaciously. He marveled at how responsive she was. She huskily whispered, "Harder, fuck me harder." John picked up the pace and was soon slamming into her. She urged him on, "Yes, baby, yes! Fuck me, fuck me hard. Yessss!"

Sweat streamed from every pore of his skin from his vigorous exertion as the hot sun bore down on his bare back. She groveled beneath him; her fingernails digging long bloody furrows down his back as she wildly bucked her pelvis to met every hard thrust of his wonderful cock. He felt her nipples stiffen more and then her upper body blushed. He felt her pussy muscles contract wildly around his pounding shaft like a velvet vise. Suddenly her whole body stiffened as the intense orgasmic wave spread swiftly from the epicenter of her loins, sweeping unrestrained throughout her now spasmodic body. She cried out with a wailing moan, announcing her pleasure to the heavens and to the neighborhood.

John covered her mouth to stifle the cry. She bit into the fleshy edge of his palm just as the first volcanic rush of semen surged through his cock. His vision blurred as the intense orgasm seized him and he too cried out in sweet agony. Next door, Patti Smith arched her eyebrows and set down her book.

John collapsed spent on top of her, then rolled off to the side, lying spread eagle in the grass. He didn't know how long he had lain there when heard a lilting voice. He bolted upright. His stomach knotted into a tight ball and his ass hole puckered up as he focused on Patti Smith.

"My, my, my. John Jester, you're a naughty boy! What will the neighbors think?" Patti teasingly admonished trying hard not to snicker. "Oh my god! If you could see your face! Look at you! You're a mess!" and she starting laughing. Patti looked down at Kate, fucked out, covered in grass clippings, sweat and smeared grime, not caring who was standing around. "Boy, you sure did a number on her! But John, please, next time take a bath!"

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