She couldn't help it. When she saw him she felt a flutter through her body that took her completely by surprise. He pulled up in a big, beat up, old pickup truck with those really loud exhaust pipes, and a trailer on the back that carried his lawn machinery. She had just stepped out to get the mail. He was pulling the cord on the lawn mower. When he heard her, he looked up, and she was in shock. Shocked by what just looking at him did to her. He was perfectly formed. Tall, well muscled arms, deep brown tan, a mess of short blond hair, and blue eyes you could see from a mile away.
"Hello," he said. "I'm Trevor. I'll be taking care of your lawn today. How are you Mrs. Gibson?
"I'm good." She didn't know what else to say. She found it difficult to form words in her mind, let alone form them with her mouth.
"Could you trim the hedges along the driveway?" She asked.
"I was just looking at those," he said. "I will."
"Ok. Thank you." And she ran back inside.
She leaned against the front door and noticed she was almost shaking. What the hell just happened? She went to the kitchen to catch her breath and poured herself a glass of water. My God, she thought to herself, this can't be happening. She went to the living room and looked out the window. Already the hedges were trimmed. She watched as again he struggled trying to start the lawn mower. He opened the gas cap then checked the oil. Sarah hoped he wouldn't come to the front door asking for help. Please don't. She couldn't believe how she acted earlier and didn't want to go through another peculiar moment. Or, maybe, she just didn't want to interact with him for fear he may catch a sign of what he did to her. He went to his truck, pulled out a gas can, and filled the mower. On the third pull it worked. Thank God.
OK, she thought to herself. I'll go up to my office and do some work. Through the window, she took one last glance at the young man pushing the lawn mower, and then went upstairs.
She sat at her desk, turned on the computer, and tried containing her thoughts. She read emails, wrote down a few notes, and realized she was completely distracted by thoughts of Trevor. She had never had a reaction to another person like this before - not even her husband. Though there had been, and still was, great attraction to the man she married, this was different. This was pure passion. Pure, debilitating, passion. Passion she wondered if she could control.
Ok. Work, she said to herself.
She picked up the phone, about to call her office, when the doorbell rang. Fuck, she said out loud. And as much as she was afraid to answer it, a part of her wanted it to be him. She stood, checked herself in a mirror, and went down to the front door.
"Sorry Mrs. Gibson. I just nicked my arm on a branch. Do you have a band aid?" Sarah looked at his wound. A deep, two inch, scratch across his right fore arm.
"Of course I do. Do you want to come in?"
"Come to the kitchen. I'll clean you off and we'll stitch it up," she said smiling, conscious of whether her words were the least bit seductive. A part of her hoped they weren't. And a part of her hoped they were.
They walked into the large gourmet kitchen with stainless steel appliances, and a large granite island in the centre.
"Sit up here."
She pulled a chair out from the island for him to sit on, opened the cupboard, and looked for some band aids and rubbing alcohol. She had to stand on her tippy toes to look into the cupboard, and she wondered if he was looking at her ass.
"You're not really going to stitch me are you?" Trevor asked.
"No. I don't think we'll need stitches. Which is good because I haven't used a needle in a while," she said smiling.
He smiled back. "You had me worried."
"Oh, you'd have nothing to worry about. I used to be a nurse," she said.
"Really? My Mom is a nurse. So are two of my aunt's."
"Where do they work?"
"Yeah. They love their jobs."
"It is a great job."
"Yeah. They always tell me I should become a nurse."
"Why don't you?"
"I don't like needles. Or blood."
Sarah laughed. "Either do I."
Trevor smiled. "What do you do now?" He asked.
"I'm a psychiatrist," Sarah said, opening the rubbing alcohol.
"This might sting a bit."
"I can handle it."
Sarah applied the alcohol.
Trevor winced, looking into Sarah's eyes. When he did, she almost forgot what she was doing. Good lord don't look into my eyes she thought. She could feel her face blush.
She opened the band aid and placed it on the cut.
"Ok. That should do it."
Trevor checked her work. "Good job Mrs. Gibson," he said smiling. "Thanks a lot. I thought I needed stitches."
Sarah smiled as she leaned over the counter. "I think you'll make it," she said.
"I'll get back at it,' Trevor said.
"Is there anything else you need done?' He asked from the door.
"No. the hedges were my only concern."
"Ok." And he walked out the door.
Sarah sat at the island counter, replaying their conversation in her mind. Did he sense her nervousness and excitement? Did she give any hint of her attraction to him? She noticed the magnetism between them while they talked. Did he feel it too?
This is nuts, she thought. I'm 39 years old. He's probably 19. Put him out of your mind. Besides, you're married, with two kids. Why would he remotely find interest in me? Again, Sarah walked to the window. She knew she shouldn't, but something inside her couldn't stop. One last look. She peeked through the drapes and watched as he rode the lawn mower across her property. She wanted to be close to him, feel his breath on her neck, smell his skin.
Sarah went upstairs to her bedroom. She partially closed the curtains, layed on her bed and closed her eyes. She undid her pants and pulled them down to her knees. She pulled her panties aside and stroked herself with her fingers. In her mind she pictured riding Trevor, feeling him deep inside her. She imagined him licking her breasts and tightly holding her ass while she pleasured herself with him. Dear God, she whispered, completely lost in fantasy. I shouldn't be doing this, she thought, knowing that masturbating thinking of him would only enhance her attraction. Oh, fuck, she gasped, as orgasm rippled through her mind and body.
She lay on her bed enjoying deep relief, and allowed her mind to settle. She got out of bed, walked over to the window, and noticed Trevor was gone. Disappointed, she told herself this was good as she had work to do. So, she went back to her office and got on with her work day.
That night, while lying in bed, she allowed her mind to wander on thoughts of Trevor. Paul, her husband, had fallen asleep quickly and so, in the dark, unable to sleep, she fantasized.
How could it happen? What scenario would allow her and Trevor to be together? Maybe she'd run into him at the grocery store or the mall. Maybe, while walking through the forest trail one night, he'd be there. There we go. That would be interesting. Alone, secluded. Sarah imagined the scene in her mind. He'd be sitting on a fallen tree in the forest. She would approach him, smile, say hello, sit down beside him. She imagined him whispering in her ear. She would put her hand on his leg and look at the tall trees in the forest around them. She would draw small circles on his thigh, and slowly move her hand higher. He would lean in and kiss her neck. The thought of his soft lips on her neck made her wet. Her hand would move across his lap up to the waist of his jeans. His kissing would become harder, with gentle strokes from his tongue. He would gently suck her throat trying to leave marks, and as much as the feeling made her weak, she'd pull away. You can't leave any marks she'd say.
Stand up, she'd tell him. She'd undo the button of his jeans while keeping an eye out for any passerby. In her mind, she saw herself pulling down his pants and taking his enormous cock in her hands. Should we be doing this Mrs. Gibson? He'd ask. I don't know Trevor. Should we stop? She would say, looking up at him. No? And then she'd take him in her mouth.
In bed, Sarah could feel herself becoming wet, she could feel her clit throbbing. She wondered if her husband would notice if she fingered herself gently under the blankets. Instead, she went downstairs to get a drink of water.
She got out of bed and went down to the kitchen. After sipping a cold glass of water she let her hand slide between her legs. She could feel the wet fullness of her clit. In the dark, she leaned against the cold, stone, counter and stroked herself. Again, she imagined Trevor's cock in her mouth, and his hands holding her head as she took him deeper and deeper. She could hear him moan and taste his ejaculate as he readied to cum.
"Cum baby," she'd say to him. "Cum in my mouth." His hands tighter on her head, his body tensing as she sucked faster.
In the kitchen she was lost in dream. Her fingers rapidly stimulating herself. She fought to stay quiet as her body climaxed at the thought of Trevor pulsating in her mouth. After a satisfying orgasm, Sarah stood silent in the kitchen. This is nuts she thought. What am I going to do? She convinced herself she could put him out of her mind, and that tomorrow she would probably not think twice about him. With that, she went back to bed.
For the next few days Trevor floated through Sarah's mind as an occasional daydream, And as the day drew closer for when he would be back to cut the lawn, she felt slight pangs of excitement stir within her. She spent more time checking herself out in mirrors as if trying to convince herself she was attractive. She knew she was. All her friends, and even her husband, were constantly commenting on how good she looked, particularly for her age. She worked out regularly, and except for the slight graying in her hair that was usually taken care of by a visit to the hair salon, her hair was still as long and lustrous as it had been back in college.
And so the question presented itself. Could she seduce this young man? Did she still have what it took? She almost considered it a challenge - a challenge she was torn on whether she should take.
She decided she would definitely take a shot during his next visit. See if she could catch his attention so to speak. After deciding this, she went up to her closet to look for something she would wear.
The weather for Thursday was calling for extreme heat. The temperature over the past few weeks had been up near the ninties and it showed no sign of letting up. I'll have to wear something skimpy Sarah thought to herself, as she examined her closet. She pulled a pair of blue shorts from the shelf and tried them on. Looking in the mirror she wondered if maybe they were a little too short. She turned around and saw they barely covered her ass. After feeling the thrill of wearing such a revealing piece of clothing, she decided she'd wear them, with a white cotton t-shirt, not too tight, and no bra. She didn't have large breasts, but they were a nice shape, and they were big enough to catch an eye. The idea of wearing such a provocative outfit for Trevor gave Sarah a feeling of exhilaration. She felt nervous and excited and couldn't wait until the next day when she'd see him. Now, one last thing to consider - panties? Or no panties? No panties, she decided. She loved the feeling of not wearing panties.
On Thursday morning Sarah could hardly contain herself. After Paul left for his long commute to work and the kids were picked up for day camp, Sarah sat on the front veranda drinking coffee. She was becoming very nervous at the thought of what might happen that day. She had no intention of making any move, but she was very interested in what Trevor's response might be to her flirtations. After finishing her coffee, she went upstairs to put on the clothes she hoped to entice him with.
While she slipped into her way too tight shorts, she heard his truck pull up in front of her house. A nervous smile spread across her face. She pulled on her t-shirt, checked herself in the mirror, then went downstairs.
"Good morning Trevor," she said stepping onto the front veranda.
"Good morning", Trevor said, pulling his lawn equipment off the truck.
Sarah looked up at the sky. Clouds were moving in from the west.
"It's not supposed to rain today is it?"
"Yeah. It is. I didn't think until this afternoon, but those clouds say different. It's ok though, I brought my rain coat."
Sarah smiled. She noticed he hadn't looked at her yet. "If there's lightening don't hesitate to come in the house ok?"
"All right Mrs. Gibson. But I should be done before the rain starts."
Still, he hadn't looked at her. She stepped off the veranda and walked to the garden in front of the house, hoping to catch his attention.
"Do you pull weeds?" She asked, bending over, looking at a large patch of crabgrass that was taking over the garden.
"Yes. That crabgrass? I can take of that for you."
His arm brushed against hers as he came and stood beside her. He stepped into the garden and began pulling out the weeds.
"Do you want some help?" She asked, wanting to be close to him.
"Sure. You could grab a bag out of my truck. We'll put these in it."
"Ok." She said, and walked over to his truck to get a bag.
She opened the bag and stood it next to where they were working.
"If you have things to do Mrs. Gibson, I can do this. It won't take me long."
"Oh no. I love gardening. Wish I had more time for it." She enjoyed being near him, the feeling it gave her, almost as if electricity passed from him to her.
Rain drops began to fall as the last weeds were pulled.
"Go on inside, Mrs. Gibson. I can finish out here."
"Oh no. Get those last few and I'll take the bag to the garage."
She was delaying, hoping the rain would fall, and wet her thin, white, cotton t-shirt. Thunder cracked in the distance.
"You won't be able to do the lawn today Trevor. Would you be able to come back tomorrow?"
Finally, he looked up at her from the garden. His blue eyes momentarily fixing on her breasts. Got him. She could tell he was embarrassed at having looked at her that way. She half smiled and scratched her arm.
"I, I," Trevor stumbled with his words. "I'm sorry Mrs. Gibson. Yes," he said, quickly gathering his tools from the garden. "I can come back tomorrow."
The rain fell harder as she bent down beside him, her shoulder softly brushing against his.
"Come in the house and dry off before you leave," she said.
"I will. You go inside." His eyes locked on hers.
Another boom of thunder. The rain turned into a downpour as Sarah ran for the front door. She watched Trevor through the window as he threw his tools in the back of his truck, then ran up to the front door. She opened the door and let him in.
"Wow, that came up awfully quick," Trevor said, as he pulled the hood of his rain jacket off his head. Sarah didn't respond. She just stood at the doorway, soaking wet, staring into Trevor's eyes wanting him to look at her, at her bare breasts beneath her t-shirt, at her wet thighs and chest.
"Take off your coat," she said. But he didn't. Instead he did something completely unexpected. He stepped in close to her, touched her face, and softly kissed her. Shocked, she stood there, letting him kiss her, feeling his soft lips on hers, his hands roaming her body - her arms, her hips, her neck.
"Take me Trevor," she said under her breath. "I want to be yours. Right now." He pulled her close and Sarah could feel his hardness on her waist. He pushed her against the wall and furiously tried to undo her shorts. Frustrated, he ripped open the button, and tore her shorts off her body. She fumbled with the button on his pants, desperately wanting to feel him in her hands. This was happening so fast, so quick, but there was no stopping. She was going to fuck him right there in the front entrance way of her home. "Come," she said pulling him to a small table in the hall. She leaned back on the table not taking her lips from his. She grasped his large, hot, cock, and directed it into her pussy.
"We shouldn't be doing this," she heard Trevor say, as she pulled him into her. Fuck. His cock was so big, so thick, so long, and it felt so good slipping into her.
"We should stop Mrs. Gibson," Trevor said, trying to resist. But it was too late. It was already done. He was already inside her.
What Sarah found most surprising, was the aggression in the way he fucked her. Just like her fantasy, his hands squeezed her ass. He sucked and bit her breasts, and her neck, and though she was afraid he would leave marks, she let him have his way with her.
"Can we go upstairs?" He asked, in a low breathy voice.
"Let's go to my bed."
Without letting go of her, Trevor picked Sarah up off the table and carried her up to her room. He threw her on her bed and took off the rest of his clothes.
He stood at the side of the bed and wrapped his hand in Sarah's hair. He said nothing, just looked into her eyes. She knew what he wanted her to do.
She looked at his lean, muscular, body standing above her. Looking into his eyes, she moved to the edge of the bed and took him in her mouth.
"Touch yourself", he said, firmly pulling her hair. "Now."
Sarah felt a shrill of fear, as her fingers softly caressed her clit. She had not expected Trevor to be so aggressive, but she did as told and fingered herself while sucking his cock, discovering how wet she was and how badly she wanted him to fuck her any way he wanted.
"Lay back," he said. "Lay back on the bed."
Sarah did as told and layed back on the bed.
"Open your legs."
She opened her legs hoping he could see how wet she was.
He pulled her to the end of the bed so her legs hung over the edge. He bent down and placed her legs over his shoulders.
"Close your eyes."
"My eyes are closed," she whispered.
She felt his tongue on her knee. Slowly rolling up her leg into her thigh.
One hand was tight on her hip and the other roamed freely across her belly, and then softly to the top of her clit. His thumb pressed firmly against her labia while his tongue gently glided from the bottom of her soft lips to the top where he mad small circles with his tongue.
Sarah let out a deep breath, her eyes rolling and closed while he stroked her. She felt his fingers slip easily into her.
"Oh my God. Oh my sweet, sweet beautiful God."
Just as she was about to cum she felt Trevor quickly stand up, lift her hips, and with his thumb rapidly rubbing her, he jammed the full length of his cock deep inside her.
She never felt anything like it. Contractions throughout her entire body. Her legs tightened around his waist. Her feet, toes, hands and brain felt an absolute, surreal, feeling of relief, as if her soul literally lifted out of her body. She thrust her hips forward wanting to take as much of him into her as she possibly could, wanting every inch. And when she did, she felt it again, a complete physical and mental bliss that she had never experienced in her life, as if God himself was caressing her soul, lifting and enveloping her into heaven. Tears welled in her eyes, as she clenched her fists against Trevor's body, pushing him away, feeling as if she couldn't take another moment of such an ecstatic state of being.
"Oh no Mrs. Gibson, we're not done yet. Turn over."
Almost lifelessly, she rolled over and felt his hands caress her soft, smooth, ass.
"You look so beautiful laying there on your bed Mrs. Gibson. Do you want me to fuck you again?
"Yes please. Fuck me again."
And before she could take another breath she felt him inside her, full and whole, reaching parts of her she never knew existed. Slowly, in methodical rhythm, he rammed into her from behind, steadily increasing the pace of thrusts. Sarah clenched her bed sheet and buried her face into the pillow, muffling her screams as he drove into her, harder and harder and harder.