Yard Work

bywishful1©

Hi. My name is Emery Wattles. I've worked construction all my life and I've got the build to prove it. "All my life" happens to be only forty-four years old right now, but I plan to live a long time.

I made enough money doing construction that I only do it when I want to now. I do a lot of consulting and a lot of training, and I do a lot of it on sites, so I travel a lot. As it turns out I keep in pretty good shape. This is to my advantage in several ways, among them the female department. I never did marry, and I do like female companionship. I have never had a problem getting some when I want it, which is fairly often. There's always someone willing to be with me, and I never have to pay for it, either.

So anyway, I live alone in a nice house up in the hills. There's only one place that directly adjoins mine and can see my place from their house. I should say her house, because a good-looking lady named Susanna lives there alone. Susanna is probably around forty, but she looks like a woman who no man in his right mind would push out of his bed. Count me in that number. In fact I will admit that sometimes when I haven't had female company for longer than I like I think of her and I beat off. I've hardly ever talked with her, but when I do I'm impressed with how nice she looks, curves in all the right places and fit as can be, including a warm, friendly smile. I just never had the chance to get intimate with her.

I have a cleaning service come in every week or so and do a job on the inside of the house. I take care of the outside, including the yard, which is pretty big. I like doing the yard work. It helps keep me fit. I like living in the hills like this because I can get away without having to worry very much about how I dress.

At least that's how it was until about two years ago.

I usually wear something pretty simple when I work in the yard. I've got a couple of pair of exercise pants that I use, the kind that have an elastic waistband. Sometimes when I get to grunting and working hard that elastic seems to slide down over my hips and shows the crack in my butt, and a few times even more than that. At least a dozen times I've actually had the pants puddle around my ankles when I can't do anything about it, which can be dangerous when I'm trying to walk with an armload of trash and I really don't want to put it down to pull myself back together.

Two years ago in the Spring I was out working in the yard. It was late April. The sun was shining and I was sweating pretty good. I was wearing a tee-shirt and my sweat pants and as usual when I get too exertious my pants slide downward. I'd almost finished cleaning out the edge of the property where I share it with Susanna when I see her bombing across her yard toward me. That part of our yards can't be seen from the road. She seems pretty upset.

"Emery Wattles, you bastard!" she's screaming at me, "you make me so mad! You come out here in those ridiculous pants and they're always slipping down and they make me so upset that I can't even hardly see straight!"

"Susanna, Susanna, calm down," I say, trying to soothe her as I pull my pants up onto my waist. "I had no idea my pants upset you like that. I'll try to find another kind of pants to wear. I don't want to give you a stroke or anything."

By this time she's standing almost nose-to-nose with me. She's trembling and breathing very hard.

"You know what they make me want to do?" she asks, yelling at the top of her voice. It's a good thing the next neighbor to us is a half mile away. "Do you have any idea what they make me want to do, you in those pants without any underwear on? Oh yeah, I can tell! You don't wear any underwear with them, I can see that easily. You know what it makes me want to do?"

"No, I don't have any idea what it makes you want to do, Susanna," I say, speaking quietly. I have to calm this lady down somehow.

"This is what it makes me want to do!" she yells, interrupting me. "This is what I want to do when I see you in those pants!"

Then, in one quick, smooth motion, she's on her knees in front of me, her hands grasping the waistband of my pants as she goes down and pulling them down my legs as her mouth closes in over the end of my cock. Her hands come quickly back up to hold onto my long, thick shaft, and from time to time hold my balls as she sucks, and she sucks powerfully, I can tell you that.

Now I like getting a blow job, but I like a lot more to be fucking a woman. I hardly ever cum with a blow job unless the lady doing it is in her period and I know that I'm not going to get satisfaction any other way with her. Susanna is sucking powerfully. I reach down and lift her top off her torso, finding that she has no bra on. I grasp her tits as I bend over her head and squeeze them, playing with her nipples. She makes some funny squealing noises but doesn't let go of my dick. Her suction is terrific. I'm really liking this. Her tits are not huge, you know, not basketballs, but they make very nice hand holds. It's obvious that she likes the way I'm handling them, too.

"Susanna, do you have any underwear on at all?" I ask as I look down at her back. She's wearing shorts.

I watch her head make a slight negative response.

"Good!" I say softly, "Yes indeed, good!" I let her keep on sucking for a couple more minutes, then I pull her off my dick. She's still on her knees before she realizes that I've flipped her around, facing away from me, and by the time she starts to yell in protest I've yanked her shorts down over her butt and past her knees. I slide a finger between her thighs as I turn her and verify that she's as wet as she can be. I kneel behind her quickly and shove myself inside her. I don't waste time. I push myself deep inside of her and she yells louder but it sounds as if she likes it. It feels really good to be fucking her like this.

I surprised her, and she yells very loudly, loud enough that I hear her voice echo off the hill. She's bucking back against me as I thrust in and out of her, not making any effort to get away. It's obvious that she's been very horny and she's really liking what we're doing together. I know I do.

"I'm coming!" I yell a few minutes later.

"Yes!" she screams back as I start to unload inside her hot, slick channel. We're glued together hard as we finish our cooperative effort, and then with a last spasm I finish and feel myself wilting rapidly. She sags in front of me, her body going all soft.

"Well, Susanna," I say quietly as we're kneeling there, both of us looking pretty silly the way our clothes are not quite on and not quite off our bodies, "that was a very nice surprise. But I think I won't bother to get different pants. Any time you want to get laid or give me a blow job, why, all you have to do is come across the yard and I'll do my best to accommodate you. The only rule is that you have to be naked. In fact, I don't ever want to see you in the space between our houses with anything on ever again, do you understand me?"

Susanna kicks off her shorts to stand up naked in front of me. Her pussy is right before my eyes.

"The same goes for you, Emery," she says, her voice and demeanor much quieter. "Whenever you want a fucking, just come on over, any time. Only the same rule goes: no clothes, none at all. Understand?"

"You bet!" I say, standing, then leaning over to give her a kiss. "You're a beautiful woman, Susanna, and you have great tits and a terrific ass. I will plan to use them a lot in the future."

"You bastard!" she says gently, almost calmly, but she sounds affectionate now. "You great fucking bastard!"

Anyway, when I'm not traveling, we've been getting together a lot, mostly out in the yards. I hardly ever see Susanna wearing anything any more, and I threw away all my pants with elastic waistbands.

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bywishful1© 1 comments/ 44506 views/ 0 favorites

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