A Three Step Ladder

She answered the door wearing her usual evening attire, an old worn cotton print bathrobe and slippers. Mrs. "B" was busy hanging drapes, and wasn't sure what time Danny, her son would be home. He had gone with his father to a friend's house for a game of cards and pizza. I had stopped by to see if Danny was ready to go. He and I had talked about shooting some hoops at the park and then cruising the local burger joints and hangouts tonight.

"While you're here, would you mind giving me a hand with these drapes" she asked." "It will keep you busy until Danny gets home." And, since I now had absolutely nothing else to do, I agreed.

Danny and I were the best of friends. We lived two houses apart and were constantly hanging out at either his or my place. He was a couple of years older than me, having graduated high school three years ago, but we really got along well despite the age difference. His mom was always very nice; bright eyes, smiling, and a friendly face. She didn't work outside the home, but was always busy with some volunteer church work or social function. When at home, she would pass the time by sewing or reading. She was quite a bit older than the other moms of the guys we hung out with in the neighborhood.

"Danny was a late life mistake" as she joked more than once. Mr. and Mrs. B had Danny when they were in their forties. She was not an entirely unattractive woman, just very plain. She stood about 5' 2" and weighed roughly 150 lbs, almost never wore any makeup, and was kind of matronly; with almost shoulder length graying hair that was once chestnut brown based on the photos I had seen of her in her younger days. Definitely not someone you would give a second thought to walking down the street, except for her smile. That alone could brighten a room.

We headed in to the living room where Mrs. B had just started to re-hang some drapes she had taken down to clean and repair. She had some old Tony Bennett album playing on the stereo, the light from a table lamp in the corner of the room seemed dim compared to the hi-intensity lamp over her sewing machine, but gave a nice soft glow to the room. Next to the windows at the front of the house, illuminated by the table lamp and the light from a streetlamp coming through the windows, stood a small wooden three step ladder.

"Anthony", she said, "you couldn't have come at a better time. I wasn't sure how I was going to hang these without killing myself. If you could help hold the drapes neatly so they don't get wrinkled and kind of steady that old ladder for me, it would be a great help. Hold out your arms and I'll place these drapes over them to keep the pleats together." I did as instructed, and she laid a drapery panel across my extended forearms.

She then climbed the ladder to the top, reaching up to hook the drapes in place. "Could you try and steady this ladder for me? It's a little wobbly and I don't want to end up tumbling through the windows" she said half jokingly.

I reached out to steady the ladder from behind her, my head just brushing against her left hip as I had to bend down to reach it. This of course made the drapes bunch up as they slid down my arms, and made it difficult for her to access them.

"Maybe it would be better if you held onto me. You won't have to bend over like that" she said.

Now I had known Mrs. B for most of my life, but had never really touched her other than the occasional birthday or congratulatory hug, so I tentatively reached out, grabbing hold of her legs outside of her robe at the knees, and did my best to steady her. She pulled the top of the drape around her and reached up to begin hanging the first panel and in leaning forward, started to fall toward the glass. I panicked, trying to steady the ladder and her from behind, and in doing so dropped the drapes to the floor. She let out a slight yelp as she wobbled forward on that rickety old ladder, but managed to stay upright.

"Well that isn't working" she said as I gathered up the pile of material from the floor. "Let's try again. Why don't you come around to the front of the ladder? That way I can get to the drapes a little easier, and you should be able to steady me better from this angle."

She was right, and after a couple of minutes it started to go rather smoothly. I now held onto her legs with my hands outside of her robe just as before, and she kind of leaned into me for support.

When we got to the second panel, we were pretty much in sync. However, as she reached up for each hook, her robe lifted with her and my hands were now on her bare legs just above and behind her knees. The skin on her legs was amazingly smooth and warm, and it wasn't long before I found myself wondering off in a hazy, erotic sort of daydream enjoying the feel of her soft flesh.

If that wasn't enough to get my hormones surging, what happened next would certainly help to push me over the edge. As she pulled the drapes from me and the material rubbed across her body, a button came undone on her robe. Soon another one popped, and her robe started to gape open as she reached to hook the drapes. This allowed me an occasional glimpse of her pasty white thighs, and as she continued to pull the drapery upward, a quick view of her panty covered mound and her big fat pussy! My eyes nearly popped out of my head!

"Are you ready for the next panel" she asked jerking me back to earth.

"Yeah,..I guess" was all I could manage as she climbed down, re-loaded, and climbed back up that ladder. Some how she had not noticed that her robe was coming unbuttoned from the bottom. Part of me wanted to tell her but I didn't know if I should. I resumed my position, held on to her legs, and within a minute was again rewarded with a view of her womanly charms.

This time, as she leaned in on me my face was so close that I could see some of her pubic hair poking through the thin green nylon material covering her, and from around the elastic leg openings. I was staring at her full, rounded mound and I could smell her soft clean scent; my mouth was getting dry, my senses were on overload, and my prick was getting as hard as a steel bar. Here was this woman old enough to be my grandmother, that I had never given a single sexual thought to, and she was getting me worked up to a boiling point without even knowing!

When the phone rang, I nearly jumped across the room. It was Mr. B telling her that he and Danny were going to stay for a couple of more hours, and not to wait up. "The poker game must be heating up" she said. "It seems as though it's going to be just you and me" she stated as she headed back for another drapery panel. "Anthony, are you alright?" she asked. "You look a little flushed." "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, no, I'm fine," I lied. "Thanks anyway." She still hadn't noticed her robe, and I damned sure was not about to tell her. I just did my best to try and conceal the raging hard on trapped in my jeans.

Back up the ladder she went, back to my dream world I went, drapes in arms, hands on her soft warm legs, and that sweat smelling pussy right in front of my face. I just didn't think it could get any better.

I was wrong. As Mrs. B leaned up and in to hook the last panel, her panties came in contact with my face for a brief moment. Not noticing, she didn't immediately back away. Then it happened a second time. Again, she must not have noticed and didn't back away. Neither did I. Instead, I just buried my face in her crotch, inhaled deeply and nuzzled my nose right into that big hairy pussy while sliding my hands farther up the back of her legs toward her ass as my head started spinning out of control.

After what seemed like an eternity I heard her say "Oh...my goodness" as she backed away and looked down at me and her state of dress. "Anthony, what on earth are you doing? Why didn't you tell me that I was exposing myself like that? How could you do such a thing?"

"I... I," was about all I could stammer as my face flushed red as a beet. "I'm sorry Mrs. B. I don't know what came over me. Please, I, I, I'm so sorry."

Down the ladder she came, up the stairs she ran, and standing in the middle of the living room with nothing but a guilty look and a painfully stiff prick was me. Talk about being caught with your hand in the cookie jar. I was so busted. I didn't know what to do. How was I going to live this down? What would my parents do? What about Danny? Just as I started to gather myself to leave, Mrs. B called to me from the stairway. "Anthony, please don't go, we need to talk."

In a minute, she had re-entered the living room, took a seat on the sofa, and asked me to sit with her. She had buttoned up her robe, but otherwise appeared the same except that I could see her eyes were moist and reddened behind her glasses.

As I sat down she reached for my hand, I suppose to comfort me, or her, and turned to look me in the eye. We were sort of sitting sideways facing each other. One of my legs was curled up on the sofa and she raised a leg to do the same. I instinctively looked down to gaze at her partially exposed thigh and she raised my chin with her hand and looked into my soul.

"Anthony, you have always been such a good boy, why didn't you tell me that I was... well, on display? You know you shouldn't be looking at a woman like that; especially me! I thought you had more respect for me than that. And then to do what you did, putting your face into me like that, what were you thinking? It's just not right! In fact it's downright sinful."

"Mrs. B, I don't know what to say. The whole situation got a little out of hand. At first it was just feeling the softness of your legs that started it all, and then having your, uh, panties right in front of me, the way you looked and smelled; it was all just too much. I couldn't help myself. I know it was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself." "Please, you gotta forgive me."

"Anthony, I'm a 64 year old woman, what in God's name could make you do such a thing?" "I don't get it. I know that young boys tend to get aroused easily enough, but...I...oh" her words just trailed off and I could see tears forming in her eyes again.

"Mrs. B, I guess I really wasn't thinking about how old you are, or even who you are, and I'm really sorry if I offended you." "You have always been like a grandmother to me; but if I can be perfectly honest with you, that was about the most thrilling thing that has ever happened to me. Please don't hate me for it."

At that she grabbed me by the back of my head and pulled me to her bosom. My face was plastered against her chest; I could feel the softness of her breasts against my cheek. "Oh Anthony, I know it was not intentional, and what you did was terribly wrong, but somehow, hearing you say that, well,... you have no idea how good you make this old woman feel."

"Still what happened was very wrong and should have never happened." With that she released me and stated "I forgive you, but I think you need to go home and think about what you did and ask for God's forgiveness."

I got up to leave, apologized repeatedly, and begged her not to tell anyone about what happened. She agreed, and in doing so made me promise to "reflect on what we talked about."

Oh I reflected all right. Repeatedly. I couldn't wait to get home and relieve the build up of sexual tension that had been gripping me for the past hour. I jerked off that night with the sights and smell of her hairy old pussy and the touch of her soft milky thighs filling my senses to overload, and came with a ferocity that I hadn't known before.

To be continued.....