by Jimi Linden ©
My next door neighbor is one of those lucky individuals who seems able to repair anything. When my van wouldn't start I therefore gave him a call. I assumed since nothing happened when the key was turned that the problem was probably something simple such as a dead battery.
Steve was more than happy to assist me as he knew my resident dildo was away with the local Air National Guard Wing for summer training. What he couldn't know was that after almost a week alone I was hornier than a three horned billy goat! I had brought myself off twice just trying to wiggle into my pantyhose and my vibrator was still so hot from the previous nights activity it smelled of overheated wiring (among other things).
My plans for the day to shop then have dinner with a friend (female, unfortunately) at a rather formal restaurant had been interrupted by my contrary vehicle. When Steve drove up I was still dressed for my excursion to the city. My sleeveless A-line was very form fitting and I had accentuated its deep dark bluegreen color with turquoise color shoes and Indian jewelry. Made of a silky synthetic and cotton blend it was so soft I knew it would show even a goosebump. Underneath I wore only my flesh colored tights and a pushup demi-bra which covered only the bottom of my breasts. My nipples were deliciously naked.
Awaiting the arrival of my rescuer I had climbed up to the driver's seat of the van hoping one additional try might resuscitate it. Steve's appreciation of my legs as I exited that position did not go unnoticed. Probably not very lady like of me, but I managed to drag my skirt almost above my waist as I slid down to ground level.
He quickly determined a starter problem and promised to repair it for me. Since he was going to town for an errand of his own, he offered me a ride. Further discourse revealed we would both be finishing up at about the same time so we planned to meet for a ride home also.
Noticing his inspection of the motor had left his hands grease covered I persuaded him to wash up before we left. Though we live on a twenty-acre expanse in the country I still felt more cloistered once we were in the house and concealed from prying neighbors. Part of the mixed blessing of country living is that everyone usually knows what everyone else is about.
Our bathroom is sufficiently large that I felt no compulsion about joining Steve as he washed his hands. Standing behind him I leaned against the wall making small talk trying not to concentrate on how alone we were in my home. When he finished I handed him a towel and decided I wanted something to happen. I can be very wanton when I want something to happen.
Gently pushing him out the door into the hall I excused myself indicating I desperately needed to use the facilities. The door to my bathroom tends to swing inward of its own accord if not correctly latched so I made sure I didn't push it too firmly closed. Sure enough I had barely seated myself when it slowly swung open. Steve was still standing just outside drying his hands. He looked startled and I attempted to display surprise with my smile. Quickly taking in my bare legs and upraised skirt he stammered an apology. Quickly replacing my "surprised" smile with a demure beam of enticement I suggested, "It's alright, you don't need to be embarrassed. A person on the throne is not in a very sexy position, I'm afraid. Really I feel quite awkward!"
"Oh, no," he stammered. "You don't look awkward. You look ... ," at which point his description disintegrated into nothingness. The blush on his face said much more than he could have ever verbalized.
Too good an opening to pass on, so I asked, "Yes, just how do I look Steve?"
"Sexy! I mean your legs look sexy. What I mean is your legs always look sexy. You have fantastic legs," he falteringly blurted out.
"Why thank you Steve. That's a very complimentary thing to say to a lady who has her pantyhose wrapped around her ankles." Then as I pulled my nylons up into place I teased, "Isn't this better though. Most men seem to appreciate legs more when they're encased in hosiery, don't you agree?"
Unabashedly staring, he breathlessly answered, "Oh yes! You're beautiful!"
"Thank you kind sir," I excitedly whispered. "Come here Steve. That's right. Come closer. Now put your arms around my neck. No, don't say anything, just kiss me!"
As he devoured my lips I could feel his bulge springing to life. Because my skirt was still bunched around my waist there was nothing covering my desire except that thin layer on nylon. Wrapping a leg around him I pulled him tight and rubbed my crotch up and down his lustful anxiety! Sensually I whispered, "What do you want, Steve?"
"I want to make love to you," he whimpered into my ear.
"No you don't," I whispered back to him. "Tell me what you really want. You don't want to make love to me. That takes to long. What do you really want to do to me? Come on, I want to hear you say it!"
Years of repression instilled by our silly double standard society hampered his answering me. Years of training to act like a gentleman forced him to hold back the response I was asking for. His tension was palatable as he tried to justify speaking aloud words truly describing the hunger which was tearing him apart.
"Say it Stevie," I whispered as I nibbled his earlobe. "I want to hear what you really want to do to me. Please, it will make me hot to hear you say it out loud!"
Sobbingly he blurted, "I WANT TO FUCK YOU!"
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it? Do you really want to fuck me? Do you want to slide your dick in and out of me? It makes me wet and very hot to hear you say that! Will you promise to suck me and make my nipples happy too?"
"Oh, yes," he moaned as we stepped away from each other. "I want you so bad I'm going to explode!"
Reaching out I unfastened his belt then led him to my bed by holding the loose end. Once in the bedroom he hurriedly undressed at my instruction. Looking at him I was pleased to discover he was in better physical shape than I had imagined. His stomach was still firm though it did tend to push above his belt slightly. Of course I had long been aware that he was a good looking man, but now with nothing but an anxious smile on his friendly round face I could see he also had a nicely erect weapon. Not overly long it projected in front of him with a nice inclination and an inviting abundance.
Stepping out of my shoes I advanced to him and as I leaned to kiss him once more I quietly instructed, "Unzip me."
The front of my dress fell to my waist and Steve stared admiringly at my breasts. Cupping one then the other I fed them to his greedy lips. While he suckled, licked and gently nibbled I allowed my dress to fall to the floor. Clad only in my pantyhose I stepped away from him. Before I could ask if he liked what he saw the answer sprang forth from his loins. The skin on his already elongated shaft stretched even more tightly as he gained at least another inch.
We fell together onto the bed as he pulled me to him. He continued nursing my tender nipples as his hand stroked nylon into my dripping tunnel. After only a moment of frenzied attack to his manhood I guided him between my legs. Then in one swift motion stripped my pantyhose from my torso and opened my desire to his invasion. Our initial union was tumultuous and deliriously satisfying. Poor Steve was so aroused his elixir emptied into my eager receptacle after only a few collisions of our thighs. Not even remotely satisfied I couldn't just allow him to collapse and forsake me.
Fortunately he responded easily to the manipulations of my agile fingers. Had it been necessary I would have taken his flaccid tool in my mouth and suckled it back to life. Admittedly his recovery without oral stimulation was much more to my liking. Though not opposed to blowjobs, they're not one of my favorite sexual activities. That presumably has transpired because my husband has spoiled me for so long. Many times he has reiterated how he considers having his genitals orally stimulated equivalent to consuming a toasted cheese sandwich at a luxurious steak and lobster restaurant. He much prefers to devour my charms than to have me try to excite him (his attentions to me are all the excitement he says he needs). Having many times unsuccessfully tried to motivate him only to have him spring to life when he touches me, certainly I can not argue the evidence.
Steve stretched across my mattress while I straddled him into my still inadequately pacified void. Kneading my breasts while he repeatedly thrust into me he soon gratified my carnality. Then we settled down for an hour of enjoying each other.
Afterward we showered together then he helped me back into my clothing. As I was putting on my shoes he once again told me, "God, you are so sexy. I'm hot again just from watching you dress."
"Oh really? How hot are you? Are you hot enough to do something about it?" I asked as I stretched out on the bed. Not waiting for his answer I slipped my hose off again, lifted my dress and spread my legs for him.
His answer was immediate, frantic and satiating. While I cleaned up he grudgingly dressed again. "God, you're fantastic," he growled into my ear as he snuggled me from behind while I applied lipstick for the umpteenth time of the day.
"Wait till tonight," I promised as we headed for town.
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