Back to Mowing Lawns

Writer's Note: This is a story for adults over eighteen years of age about adults over eighteen years of age. While the story line is true the dialog has been compressed for the sake of time and space. Safe sex was not an issue in the early seventies, but should be a concern for everyone today.

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My last story brought a comment from another writer; she cautioned me about "keeping it real" and "it must be believable." I had to laugh because my stories are about real events that I have experienced over the last sixty years. At the time, I often couldn't believe what was happening either. Neither the mother and daughter I met at the beach, nor the graduate student in the library stacks, seemed real at the time, but waking up between them the next morning was very real and watching the graduate student toss a semen filled rubber in the trash can was also real. I have been an extremely lucky man and amazing events and women seemed to find me frequently.

I was fresh out of college and ready to begin my career as a history teacher. In less than two weeks I had gone from being a student at a teachers college in the mountains of western North Carolina to being a teacher in a small agriculture and retirement town thirty miles north of my hometown of Tampa, Florida.

It didn't take long for me to realize that my teacher salary and small Army Reserve check did not provide enough money for me to do more than just get by; having a night on the town was out of the question. Luckily I was able to slip down to Tampa on weekends to see some of the ladies who had been my lawn mowing customers during high school. Four years of college and two years of military active duty had certainly added the years to some of them, but others seemed to age better; my friend, Faye had turned seventy and was as lively and sexy as ever. (See: The Lawn Boy, Chapter 3)

I was admitted to graduate school at the university in Tampa and quickly found that my G.I. Bill just barely covered my tuition. There was nothing left for me to do; I made up some flyers for a lawn mowing service and began putting them up around town. I hired some of my students who needed money to do the mowing and I provided the equipment and kept the schedule.

I stopped by the shuffleboard court where most of the retirees hung out late on Friday afternoon. As I was pinning up my flyer on the bulletin board, I heard a woman's voice over my shoulder.

"Lawn mowing, you are just in time. I'm so tired of my husband putting off mowing until our lawn looks terrible."

I turned around to find a tall, attractive, brunette, possibly in her mid-forties, drying the sweat from her tan arms and neck with a small hand towel; she looked me over rather carefully.

I smiled, "Hi, I'm Will. I would be happy to help with your lawn care."

"Hi Will, I'm Helen." We shook hands then paused, but for some reason, we continued to hold hands for several minutes.

We chatted about the work she needed to be done as a number of people passed by and spoke to her. I looked over her slender, shapely body trying not too obvious about it.

Then, rather nervously, she asked, "Do you think you could stop by tomorrow morning and look over our lawn, maybe about nine o'clock?" Then to my surprise, she added, "My husband will be away playing golf."

I readily agreed and jotted down her address and phone number. I wasn't sure what to make of her comment about her husband being away; it could have had several perfectly innocent meanings. Of course, my mind went to the ones that a typical twenty-five years old guy would dream about after having been invited by a very attractive, married woman.

It was drizzling rain Saturday morning when I rang Helen's door bell at nine o'clock on the dot. I immediately heard the sound of heels on stone tile floors inside as they approached the door.

The door opened, "Good morning, Will. You are very punctual; I like that in a man." Helen said with a warm smile.

I decided to be bold, "I believe you should never keep a beautiful woman waiting."

"Aww, that's so nice of you. Please come in. Would you have a cup of coffee with me?"

I followed her into a nook just off the kitchen and took a seat at the end of the table while she poured the coffee. I nodded in agreement when she held up a bottle of Irish cream. She was wearing heels, stockings, and a bright yellow a-line dress that buttoned up the front and had a low cut neck that showed a hint of her very ample cleavage. She wore a single strand of pearls around her neck that hung almost to her cleavage and stood out against her very tan chest. I was certain she was dressed to go out after our discussing her lawn work.

After serving the Irish cream spiked coffee she took a seat. Even though there was plenty of room at the table she sat close to me. Our knees touched when she pulled her chair under the table. She seemed a bit distracted and fidgety as we talked about everything except her lawn; it was as if she was forcing herself to talk about other things instead of what was really on her mind. Out of the blue she, again, mentioned that her husband was away playing golf with friends for the day.

I asked, "Even with it raining?"

"Oh yes, they play rain or shine; if it gets too bad, they go to the club bar," she smiled.

She hooked her finger in the string of pearls and moved them from side to side as if to draw attention to her tanned chest. As we finished our first cup of coffee, I decided to see how she would respond to my being a bit forward.

"Those are beautiful pearls; they look especially stunning against your tan. They must be a family heirloom," I said as I leaned closer to admire them and look down the top of her dress; I didn't see a hint of a bra.

"Yes, they were my grandmother's. She was quite a lady," she said then smiled as she caught my eyes admiring more than her pearls.

"You are quite a lady too," I said as I raised my eyes.

She blushed slightly then with a coy smile said, "Thank you. I love getting compliments; I get so few from my husband."

Her breathing seemed to be faster than it should have been for someone having coffee and what I thought was a blush seemed more like she was flushed. I thought, maybe she is not dressed to go out; I decided to push a bit further.

I leaned closer and looked down the top of her dress, "It's difficult not to admire a sight so beautiful; do you want me to admire your breasts?"

She smiled another very coy smile, "I guess I wanted you to pay attention to me since my husband never does; I hoped you might be interested."

That was an invitation for more, "I am very interested; would like for me to see more of you."

She hesitated a moment then, looking me in the eyes, she took a deep breath and her fingers went to her top buttons. She opened the top of her dress down the middle. Without a bra, the inside swells of her breasts were exposed; unlike her chest, they were white, untouched by the sun's rays. Her breathing increased; her breasts rose and fell with each breath.

"Absolutely beautiful," I exclaimed as I took in the amazing sight.

"Touch your nipples for me."

Her slender, elegant hand moved to her breast; her fingers slipped beneath the fabric of her dress and moved slowly over the contour of her breast. She nodded when I asked if touching her nipples made them hard.

"What are you feeling as you run your fingers over your nipples?"

"I'm experiencing a wonderful, tingling sensation between my legs. I want to be touched there."

I adjusted our chairs away from the table so we could sit facing each other; I pushed her legs open and placed my knees between them. My hand reached out and began unbuttoning the rest of her dress. When the last button was undone, her dress fell open; she was only wearing a pair of French cut, off white, lace panties, a matching garter belt and stockings I watched as her fingers continued to move over the small pink nipples of her "C" cup sized breasts.

"Have you given any thought to what we would do together?"

"Yes, last night as I lay in bed, I thought about you and the things I wanted you to do to my body."

"What did you do as you lay in bed thinking about such things?"

"I touched myself."

I took her hand and guided it between her legs, "Is this where you touched yourself?"

She nodded; I asked, "What do you feel now?"

She shivered slightly, "I feel my heat; my panties are damp."

I removed her hand and held it close to my face and inhaled the musky scent on her fingers then I offered them to her to do the same.

"Mmmm, do you like the aroma of your cunt?"

"Yes, and I like the word, "cunt," it sounds so erotic; I've never used that word before."

"Tell me more about the things you thought as you lay in bed, touching your cunt."

"Humm, there were many. I imagined you standing at the head of my bed naked; your hand was wrapped around your hard cock. You rubbed it over my face and I felt a wet drop on my chin. When you moved it close to my lips, I opened my mouth and took it in; it filled my mouth."

I pulled my tee shirt over my head and stood up to unfasten my jeans. My strained cock jumped out as I slid my cut-offs down my legs. As Helen had imagined, I wrapped my hand around my engorged cock and rubbed it over her face.

"It's a beautiful cock," she said as she bent to give it a kiss then opened her mouth.

There's nothing more beautiful than seeing your engorged cock disappear into the warmth of a beautiful woman's mouth. My cock reappeared covered with her saliva then just as quickly disappeared again. Her nostrils flared to take in more air as the tip of her nose made contact against my pubic mound. She took complete control of my cock and my balls. I rested my hands on my hips and let her have her way for several minutes.

"You know, if you keep that up you will end up with a mouth full of semen."

She removed my cock from her mouth and smiled up at me, "In case you are wondering, I swallow."

Helen was obviously enjoying my cock so why not let her have fun. Once she drained my nuts, I would stay hard longer. As her head bobbed up and down my cock, her hands gently moved over my thighs, hips, and cheeks of my ass; one hand even slipped behind my balls and between my cheeks. I was concerned that she might even probe my tightly puckered ass, but she only let her fingers play around its entrance. I began to feel the pressure building deep in my nuts; I held her head in my hands and began bucking my hips gently to meet her downward stroke. There was an explosion as hot liquid began spewing from the small hole in the engorged head of my cock. My legs felt rubbery and I was concerned if they would hold me up. Helen took a long draw on my shaft to get the last drop then looked up at me with a satisfied smile.

"How was that?" she asked.

I bent over and kissed the delicious mouth that had been, so skillfully, sucking my cock then I pushed our coffee cups and the bottle of Irish cream to the far end of the table. I took Helen in my arms and felt her warm, bare breasts against my chest; my hands glided over her body as we kissed for several minutes. I backed her up to the table and began kissing my way down her smooth, curvaceous body.

When I got to the waistband of her panties, I lifted her legs up to my shoulders and rolled her back onto the table then sat down in the chair.

Helen laughed aloud as I began kissing her inner thighs, 'I've never had sex on my dining table before."

She laughed more when I wallowed my head between her thighs and my short cropped, military style, hair cut tickled her; I blew a hot breath over her panty clad cunt. Helen pulled my face tighter against her crotch. After a few minutes of playing and teasing, the nylon crotch of her panties was slick with her creamy juices.

It was time to get serious; I stripped off her panties and inhaled their scent. She took them from me and did the same. With her legs splayed open, I began to kiss the engorged outer lips; her dark brown pubic hair was matted by her creamy nectar. Her brownish and pink labia almost formed wings that glistened with the same creamy nectar that matted her pubic hair. I ran my tongue up the furrow between her pubic hair covered outer lips and the glistening, wing-like inner lips; Helen began to coo like a dove.

I looked up to watch her face as I slid a finger into her tight rear orifice; she smiled down at me with an approving look.

"Last night I imagined you putting something other than your finger there,"

I wiggled my finger in her ass and she giggled: I took the long sheath protecting her clit into my mouth as my thumb sunk deep into her cunt. In no time, she began bucking against my hand and mouth, moaning and groaning with pleasure. Her hands pushed her breasts together so they would not bounce about unsupported; her thumbs and fingers pinched and rolled her nipples. The inside cheeks of her ass were covered with her slick, creamy, natural lubricant.

Helen pushed me from between her legs and sat up. She was flushed and gasping for breath. I held her in my arms until she could regain her composure; my engorged cock rested against her soft belly.

Helen laughed then commented, "My husband sits here every morning, drinks his coffee, reads his paper, and ignores me completely. Now I will be able to think fondly about it as he sits here and ignores me."

Helen reached down and took my cock and began to rub its head through her still wet slit; I played with her nipples as she played with my cock. After several minutes of playing, she leaned back and aligned my cock with her slick, hot cunt and pulled me into her. I hooked her heels over my shoulders as she supported her body with her arms behind her.

"I dreamed of you fucking me last night, but I never imagined you fucking me on my dining table," she said with a smile.

For a few minutes we both watched my cock as it slid in and out of her hot, wet tunnel; each time it reappeared, it glistened with her slick creamy lubricant. When I picked up the pace of my thrusts, Helen lay back on the table and began to coo and sigh. Again she pushed her breasts together to contain them as I thrust harder and harder against her; squishing sounds emanated from my piston's stroke as it plowed through thick cream.

She wrapped her left arm under her breast and held her right breast in her left hand; she lowered her right hand to her cunt and her fingers began to smack her clit. My arms encircled her thighs to give me leverage to thrust deeper into her well with more force. Helen bucked her hips upward with each thrust; her coos became yelps and her sighs became primal grunts. I squeezed my muscles as tightly as possible to delay my orgasm; I paused to let the pressure subside.

"Wrap your arms around my neck," I told her.

When she complied, I slipped my hands beneath her ass cheeks and lifted her off the table with my cock still buried deep in her. I carefully sat down in her husband's breakfast chair and pulled her close to me for a delicious kiss; Helen squeezed my cock with the muscles of her cunt. We sat like that for several minutes talking, teasing, and fucking; chair fucking is one of my favorite positions.

"Would you mind if I tell my friend, Robin, about us, fucking?" I shook my head. "She's in the same position I am; we are both ignored by our husbands and suspect they are getting theirs on the side. You really should meet her; she is really good looking."

"Then bring her to the house sometime."

Helen became serious and kissed me for several moments then began slowly sliding up and down my cock. He eyes closed and her breathing deepened as she continued to slowly ride my cock. I firmly massaged her breasts and tweaked her nipples as I kissed her neck and nipped at her ears. My actions produced an immediate reaction; she began to thrust her hips back and forth and groan sighs of pleasure. I gave the cheeks of her ass several good smacks; she shrieked loudly.

"Oh yes, that's the way I like to fuck," she grunted.

"Will, don't hold back any longer; I want to feel you cum in me."

I began to buck against her thrusts. Helen's yelps and grunts became louder and louder; her breathing increased and her skin felt cooler as sweat poured from our bodies. I wasn't far from falling over the edge of an abyss as a storm rolled through my balls and erupted

"Relax baby, let it go. I want to feel you flood my cunt," she grunted then bit the lobe of my ear.

I let go and pumped spurt after spurt of hot thick semen into her well. We froze for several minutes, unable to move. We were covered with sweat and gasping for breath. Helen lifted off of my cock; a glob of gooey semen came out with my cock and slid down my shaft, over my hairy cod sack, then on to the seat of the chair. She reached for her panties on the table and wiped the mess from between her legs. She dropped to her knees to clean the rest of the gooey mess covering my cock and balls then wiped the large pool of semen off the chair seat with her panties.

She stood up and held the semen covered panties to her face and inhaled, "I want to keep these to remember my first table fuck."

Helen led me to the bathroom where we took turns peeing. She moved to the bidet and completely cleaned her undercarriage before having me sit down so she could wash mine.

"I'm starved, would you like a bite to eat," she asked as she dried my cock, balls, and ass.

Back in the kitchen, we played, teased, and snacked naked while she told me more about her husband and why she suspected he was having affairs with other women. I listened intently as I rubbed a half eaten strawberry over her clit before eating the remainder. When I licked mayo off of her nipples, she quickly changed subjects. As she began putting food back into the fridge, I dunked my finger into the cold mayo jar then slipped my finger into her tight ass; she let out a loud yelp and began laughing.

I took her hand and led her to the den, "Which is your husband's favorite chair?"

She pointed to a recliner in front of the television. I put her on the seat with her knees open wide; she leaned forward to rest her arms on the back.

She laughed, "I wondered why you put mayo in my ass. Mmmm, I'm going to enjoy this."

I opened her cheeks; her ass was well lubed with the thick, white mayo. I brought my cock up and smacked her cheeks several times before I aligned it perfectly for the probe. She wiggled slightly as I put pressure against her rear orifice. The head of my cock almost popped inside; I felt her relax her muscles and I slid right in, all the way in. I held her hips tight against me and savored her tight, hot cavern; she squeezed my cock. I felt her hand reach between her legs and touch my cod sack; she pulled back just enough to explore her wet cunt and spread the slick juices over her clit.

"My husband used to fuck my ass often; I don't know why he stopped. I guess he found a younger tighter ass."

I gave her ass several good smacks, "I don't want to hear any more of that talk, and I'm the one fucking your beautiful, sweet ass now."

I began pounding her ass forcefully; our bodies smacked together. Her fingers were working feverishly in her juicy cunt. I could hear the squishing sound her fingers made in the creamy liquid. My cock was covered with the slick mayo when it came out of her tight hole. Helen was wailing to the beat of my thrusts and the action of her fingers. In only minutes she was in the throes of a major orgasm.

"Will, stop. I cannot stand anymore."

I froze but held on to her hips; her cheeks pressed against me, my cock still deep inside her hot hole. We heaved and grunted to catch our breath. Her body trembled. My cock began to shrink even though it didn't deliver its load. Helen squeezed it gently then moved her hips away.