The Best Erotic Stories.

I Remember Her Smile
by Indy Dark

The summer of my nineteenth year was 20 years ago. Few things I remember about being nineteen, I mean specifically remember like it was yesterday. I remember a smile. I have never seen a smile convey so much in such an instant. I'll explain.

Nineteen was the year I worked at the golf course. I was home from college for the summer and had picked up this job to pick up some cash. Cushy job riding around on a mower all summer. They let us wear shorts; they had to have a hem so we all opted for a cargo short look. With steel toed boots we all looked like a bunch of Australian sheepherders. We cheated on the shirts and cut the sleeves out of the standard issue t-shirts. All in all, not bad, we could keep comfortable working in the hot sun.

By July we were all bronze. I volunteered to mow greens which meant you had to be out before the first golfers but you got to go home early. I'd sit waiting for the sun to come up to mow the first green and could usually get ahead and stay ahead rather easily. By the time I finished the 7th green and sat on the 8th tee, which was way up in the corner of the course, I could look down through the trees and see just how far the golfers were. Most days I'd turn the mower off if I was far enough ahead and take a breather. It was just such a day. I'd shut the mower off and was getting lost in my thoughts. I had been to a party the night before and was daydreaming about a girl I had met that gave me her phone number.

Looking back on it, I'd like to think I coulda got her in the sack but I was a good kid and she was a good girl so maybe not. I do know that the thought of her in her tight white T-shirt and perky breasts was making me hard. It's difficult for me to admit I was masturbating being the "good kid" I was...lets just say I was getting uncomfortable and had let the tiger out the leg of my shorts for some air. Yes, I was stroking it in the morning sun. I thought I was alone but you know how you can just feel it?

I looked up and there she was, not more than 15 feet away, straight in front of me. I still don't know where she came from. In that instant, a million feelings raced through my mind. Here I was, this "good kid", who had never been caught doing anything, let alone doing this in broad daylight...while at work no less. I shot right straight up and started to stammer out something when I saw her smile.

I will never forget that smile. She was in her forties with blond coarse hair pulled back in a ponytail. Natural with a hint of gray but I wouldn't really see that till later. Had shorts on with a scooped neck T-shirt and tennis shoes but it was her smile that caught and held my attention. I have never seen a smile tell me so much. What I saw in that smile kind of read like an emotional checklist: I wasn't in trouble. She knew what I was doing. She liked watching me. She liked what she saw. She wanted more. It's was OK.

I was still taking it in, trying to figure out what to do, when she walked towards me. She looked me in the eye and without changing that smile she reached out and undid my shorts. I raised my butt off the seat, more or less at her command, and she slid everything down to my ankles. She glanced back up at me as she was going down and I knew she liked what she saw. I had enough gym classes to know I was on the upper end of the scale but that look was more than a "good enough" look.

It was like she had found some prize under my shorts. I remember seeing her cleavage passing by and the thought that she was "stacked" as nineteen-year-olds would say. That first suck was something; Slow and slobbery and clear to the hilt. It took my breath. I was instantly gaining back any hardness that was lost in the anxiety of being caught. I remember the top of her head and how pretty it was with her hair held back by one of those fancy gold barrettes. A few gray strands gave away her age but at the time I found it erotic to have this "older woman". In my mind today, I would like to think that she worked me over for several minutes before I reached that state where I was ready to explode, but in reality it was probably not too long. She had long nails and I remember them teasing me and then suddenly gripping me hard. She had instantly stopped a freight train before it flew out of control and had my full attention.

She had been on the side of the mower closest to the course and walked around to the other side holding both of my feet by the shorts strung between them. My butt spun on the seat as my legs went up and over the mower. She dropped my feet, grabbed my shirt by the chest and more or less jerked me to my feet on the other side. A couple hobbled steps and she spun me around and lay me back on the grass. Looking back over her shoulder and the mower to see how far away the golfers were, she peeled off her shorts. To this day I am aroused by the sight of a woman's exposed kitty while wearing tennis shoes and those short white socks with the little balls on them. Everything was tanned and toned except where a bikini would be. There was not a blemish to discourage me. She was trimmed close and neat like she had her act together; a business suit trim I call it now.

When she turned back around and saw me sitting up she gave me one of those "silly Boy" smiles like "don't you know you're supposed to be flat on your back with your pole straight up ready to be mounted?"

I needed no encouragement; I was still so hard I hardly had enough loose skin to blink my eyes. She straddled me and with a good thumb and two finger grip, eased me in. The first inch or two was sloppy; no other words to describe it, then it got tight, very tight. I could feel her releasing herself slowly down my pole. A half an inch up allowed another inch in on each stroke until I bottomed out within her. I could tell I was filling her and she was controlling the depth to avoid banging against her ceiling. Fast strokes until just before bottoming out she would ease me against her.

I remember feeling her abs flex as I worked my hands under her shirt. I am not sure if she undid her front hook bra and raised her shirt for me or for her benefit but I certainly took the cue. Boobs..., these were tight pointy titties with nipples like erasers stuck on a penny. There is not a plastic surgeon on earth that could duplicate those. I will never be an advocate of breast augmentation. God gave her a gift. A small neatly packaged gift. The tan lines were so crisp and framed her creamy white breasts in such an erotic way that tan lines became a lifelong turn-on.

She was riding me and it felt so wonderful, but I was having trouble "getting over the hump". I was on the verge for what seemed like minutes. She was getting off on that. Then she leaned down and whispered the only words she ever said to me. "It's ok, you can cum inside me". I needed that. How in the world did she know that? This kid had so much "be a good boy", "safe sex" and "don't make babies" drummed into me that my subconscious wouldn't let me release. When she said that, she let me go. I flew. I flew like I had never before. She had been grinding into me and doing all the work, now it was my turn and she would be just along for the ride.

She dug her nails in my chest and hung on. I had a grip on her hips with both hands and was eating this up. My face had to be beaming. It has been one of the happiest moments of my life. Pure happiness, the kind that makes little kids suddenly start skipping.. At the time I didn't realize that my arousal towards her would be what was turning her on. I can imagine now what it must have been like for her to have this nineteen-year-old kid come alive beneath her. I lost my virginity in a way grown men dream about.

The details fade with time but I remember the cool grass and the hot bodies and I remember the arch in her back when I came that signaled that she was right there also. Slow and rhythmically she then drained me of every last drop. The rhythm slowed until a final deep breath and long sigh. I can still see her breast heaving and those nipples goin up and down like a porpoise comin up out of the water. She rested on my chest for only a moment before (still straddling me), she sat up, pulled her disheveled ponytail out of her scrunchie and tossed her hair all around. She looked down and gave me a smile of satisfaction; not a "good boy" smile but a "you are quite the man" smile that I cherish like a gift to this day. She re-hooked her bra and pulled her shirt down while looking over the top of the mower, she dis-mounted, grabbed her shorts and pulled them on, all the while scanning the golf course. I sat up and she gave me quite the kiss while squatting and holding my head in her hands. That was more of a "what a good boy you have been" kiss that I have been trying to forget.

I was watching her walk away when I heard voices. I peered up over the mower myself and panicked; they had finished putting out on 7 and were walking this way! They must have been putting when she was putting her shorts on. I scrambled to pull my shorts up as I lay on the ground. I was flopping around like a fish out of water trying to get my cotton shorts to come up over my rolled up underwear. If I had stood up I would have surely caught their attention. I had just buttoned my shorts and rolled over on to my knees when the first golfer came in to view over the top of the mower? "Having Trouble? "Uh yeah..mower's acting up but I think I fixed it." I guess they thought I had been working hard on it and that explained my sweaty body as I pulled my shirt on. I drove off hurrying to catch back up.

One thing that does make me smile every time I relive that story is my boss's voice booming over the maintenance garage, "INDY! What the hell are those panties doin on the back of your mower!?"


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