Melanie Jackson on the Side 01

I am looking forward to living a long and healthy life, so let me start out by telling you that my neighbor, Mrs. Jackson, Mrs. Melanie Jackson is just north of 40 and by that I really mean that she is just north of 50 and by that I really mean she's pushing her compass to 61. But, for the record, my 40 years old neighbor is really a very nice person who still likes to tend to her flower garden, even though at 61 she shouldn't be kneeling down for that long in the mornings. And let me be clear, she actually looks amazing for being 40 and single. In other words, if you don't want to be shunned, she's 40 and that's the end of that story.

We get along just fine and talk over the fence on a regular basis and I'm always willing to help her when she asks for something. The thing is that she seems to need something every time I kick back on my deck with my double bold coffee. To her credit, I always seem to just finish my coffee when she yells for me over the fence. It's almost like she knows that my cup is empty by how high I raise it to my mouth. It's funny how that works, right? I'm kidding. She's cool and she can ask me anything at any time.

Well, on one particular beautiful Spring Saturday morning, LOL, she waited patiently for me to finish my coffee and asked me help her get her little garden work wagon out of her she shed.

I immediately knew three things. One, I would need a chain and a pick axe because I've seen how she puts her garden tools away in her she shed. Two, having that little gap in our dividing fence is a blessing because it saves me a lot of steps. And three, Melanie really looks good in her garden work shorts and shirt, which by the way, isn't much of a shirt.

Because I'm in the running for "Neighbor of the Year" and because I seem to get hypnotized by her very pronounced nipples, I slipped through the fence and stood in front of her she shed doors and quietly gasped. Seriously, there is a right way to stack yard equipment and a "Melanie" way to stack garden tools and guess which way Melanie uses? That's right. It's like a Beaver Dam in here.

"So, Jake, can I make you a coffee for your trouble? And just how old are you these days?"

"Double-Double, cream and sugar and I'm still 23. You checked my ID last week. Stand back Melanie."

I lowered my safety glasses and fired up my chainsaw and dove right into her train wreck of a she shed. Again, I'm making a little, but it wasn't the easiest thing she ever asked me to do. It took a minute to disassemble her Beaver Dam of tool handles, but I finally got her cute little green garden wagon out.

And she still wasn't back with my coffee yet which tells me that she doesn't have a Keurig which tells me that she just might be 61. But I say again, she looks great for 42 and I look better without a black eye.

To increase my "Neighbor of the Year" votes, I wheeled the wagon to the back of her house and rinsed it off with the hose and still no coffee. I went back to her she shed and began rearranging her rakes and shovels, when, well it's about time Melanie, I heard her soft voice.

"Here Jake, sorry it took me so long, but my friend called me with old people issues, I mean middle-aged people problems. I hope the coffee is up to your standards. Oh my, did you wash my wagon for me? That was so nice of you."

"Thanks Melanie. And yes, clean and ready to go. And please, use those garden knee pads. They work and they are not a sign of, well, ah, middle age."

I don't know what happened next. Well, I do know what happened, I just don't know why it happened. As I took the coffee from her, I leaned in and kissed her on lips, like a husband would do to his wife. I didn't plan to do that, but my body seemed to be comfortable enough to just lean in and peck her on the lips. It wasn't wet, it wasn't sloppy, but it was a peck directly on her lips. A very nice shade of red for a Saturday morning.

"Jake! Did you just kiss me? In my backyard?"

"Has it been that long Melanie? I'm sorry I didn't ask first, but it just seemed natural. Are you mad at me now that you want me to go home and you'll never ask me to help you with anything ever again?"

"Shut it smartass, but, maybe, I mean, that was a kiss, right? So, yes, it has been a while, but never mind all that. I'm old enough to be your well, I'm a little older than you. I mean, do you have your Driver's License yet? What were you thinking, Jake?"

"I told you, I wasn't thinking. It just seemed to be right at the moment. I'm sorry if you didn't like it. Should I go home now?"

"I didn't say I didn't like it. I was going to say that a proper kiss should involve a little tongue, that's all, but how dare you, young man?"

"Well, should I go now because you seem to have company. Your friend in the gray SUV just pulled in."

"Shoot! It's Mable. I need to go. She'll be expecting her prune juice on the rocks. This isn't over though. I'll come later to get my coffee cup. Bye."

"Well, wait, did I taste Raspberry?"

"Ah, well, yes you did. It's called Raspberry Rose lip gloss. I put it on while your coffee was brewing because I thought you might like it, so I hope you liked it."

"So, are you going to return the favor and kiss me good bye so I can have another taste? I don't think Unstable Mabel can't see us."

"OMG, you're impossible, but no more than the simple peck you laid on me. I mean, fair is fair, unless you want to extend the tip of your tongue."

Smack, smack.

"And don't be afraid to look up "proper kiss" on the world net web. Or am I dating myself by saying that a little passion is important. I mean, holding and groping is acceptable and most of my 41 years old body still works. I'm just saying. Remember, I'll pick up that coffee cup later."

LOL, what I may look up on the web is just exactly what female body parts do still work at 61? I mean, seriously, I'm 23 and I have no idea what changes females go through. One thing I do know is that the next time I see a Keurig on sale, I'm getting her one because that wasn't coffee. I'd rather share a prune juice on the rocks with Unstable Mable before I drink that roofing tar again.

And true her word, although much later than I expected, she came around to my front door and gently knocked. I say later than I expected because she seemed to wait until dusk, but I'll give her credit for keeping things on the up and up by letting the neighbors see her knocking at my front door when she could have slipped through the opening in our fence and snuck in. And then I gave her more credit because she had a container of food in her hand, for all of the neighbors to see. You know, one good neighbor to another.

I opened the door and greeted her.

"I thought you might be hungry and Mrs. Baldwin can be a little nosey, so act like you're surprised. So, may I come in Jake?"

"Please do Melanie. Have a seat on the couch where Mrs. Baldwin can see you or follow me into the kitchen where we will be alone, your choice. I'll just sit this container down on the counter."

She was a pretty smart cookie. It didn't take her long to figure out how to "appear" to be taking a seat on the couch when she faked out Mrs. Baldwin and spun around the hallway corner. She was behind me in the kitchen pretty quickly.

"So, Jake, are we going to talk about what happened today or we are going to pretend that it never happened? I'm not pressuring you. I just want to know what's going on here. I mean, you kissed me, you know."

"Well, let's start with this box. It's a Keurig coffee maker and I got it for you. It's easy to operate, but you might want to get in close to me and pay attention. There is one button to push."

"I heard of those. Is this close enough?"

"Well, there is one button to push, so maybe a little closer. Yes, just like that. Hold me tight while I demonstrate how to press the brew button."

I went through each step, all two of them and explained to her that she would find many different types of K-Cups at the store. And then I showed her my version of a "proper kiss" which was more than a peck, still not wet and sloppy, but there was an exchange of tongue tips. And I believe that our exchange of arm and hand embraces was acceptable to any definition of "proper kiss" on the net.

And then I figured out the difference between being 23 and making out with a woman who is 61. I had absolutely no idea how to run my fingers through her hair because of her formal and mature style hair style. It was certainly not the same as running my fingers through a 23 years old woman who still had all of her body parts that worked. In other words, I was afraid to touch her hair.

However, I did figure out that her nipples still worked. Momma had her some pencil erasers and she didn't mind that I tried to erase every page of War and Peace with them.

"OMG, oh my, give me a minute Jake. OMG, well, this is nice, but we need to talk. I don't want to turn you off or ruin the moment, but a woman of my age, well, we need a little help when we turn 45. We can't jump in your bed without some sex lube, which I'm sure you don't have, right? And you're to bed me, right?"

"Ah, no, I don't have any of that, but I'll make a note to get some. Will cheeseburger grease do?"

"Ah, no, but my "Sexless Age" website suggests something called Senior Glide. And don't worry about reading the fine print on the back of the bottle. I promise it says something about when a woman reaches 40. Anything else is a misprint from the supplier. It's available at any pharmacy in the adult diaper aisle. But, for tonight, maybe we can something else. I might be rusty, but I'm willing and ready to suck you off, but I would like hear something first."

"And that is?"

"Well, would you mind throwing an old lady a bone and tell me that you're hard for me? It would be nice to know that this bag of bones can still get a dick hard."

"You mean you want me to admit that my cock has never been this hard? Did you want me to say that your body and lips have me so worked up that I have been leaking pre cum for the past ten minutes? Or do you want me to say that as soon as I get that sex gel stuff that I'm going to put you on your hands and knees and pound you doggie like I'm a human jack hammer? I mean, I have no problem letting you know that I can't wait to see your huge titties flopping back and forth while you yelp and whimper with sexual pleasure, if that's what you want to hear. And I suppose that I could mention that at 23 I can recover quickly, so if you want it another way after I doggie do you, then I'll be up for that. I mean, you want to lay under me and gaze into my eyes as I ram you in the missionary position, right Melanie? I should mention that if you apply the sex lube to my dick, you know, after you suck me hard, then I might miss one your wet hole night and make you squeal instead of yelp. Your back door is still functional and tight, right? And while we talking, I guess that we can both agree that there is no need for a protective condom and that raw bare back feels the best. Can we agree on that or should we take a month to figure it out? And by the way, and I know this might be new for you, but a shaved beaver is my favorite, so if you whisper that in ear one day, then you're going to get the dick no matter where we are. And by another way, you can't put those titties in my face and not expect a little titty sex. What else would you like to hear, Melanie? And that's code for you have been giving me boners for over a year and the kiss this morning wasn't all that of a heat of the moment thing. It was a "you turn me on and I need you in my bed" kind of moment. And let me close my thoughts by telling you that I have jacked off my hard on many times with my eyes closed and thinking about you working your flowers with your black bra showing. And because I'm still trying to figure out what I like sexually, I jack off to your titties in a condom. My freaky little sex goal is that you bring me a morning coffee and leave with a full condom from the night before because you were wiggling your ass at me while you pulled those weeds. You don't need to show me what you do with the condom, but it will be kept fresh for you in the refrigerator. And in closing, you won't always have to happily spread your legs for me. I think I like hand jobs while I wear a blind fold. Have I said enough, Melanie or do you need to hear more about you jazz me up?"

I thought I may have said too much because she wasn't moving and I'm not even sure she was breathing until she dropped down to her and literally ripped my evening shorts down. She may have been a little rusty at first, but just like riding a bike, it all comes back to you, right? And she had no problem with keeping my first of many thick and sticky releases safe in her belly.

And she shocked me, in a funny way, but she showed me another side of herself. As she was leaving to go home, she grabbed her coffee cup, the Keurig box, unbuttoned a few of her shirt buttons and her shorts and pulled her shirt out on one side. I was a little confused until she announced that she never had the walk of shame experience, LOL. I did my part by turning on the front porch light to help illuminate her wrecked clothes condition. I also texted Mrs. Baldwin to let her that this might be a good to spy the sidewalk, LOL.

And then I immediately jumped on the internet and started researching each and every thing I said to her a few minutes ago. You know, things like "does sperm stay fresh in the refrigerator" and "does a hand job work while wearing a condom work" and of course "what's the best the substitute if one female body part body is no longer working" and a few other things. And according to many Chang users, it's best that I keep my one sexual experience to myself and brag that I have been around the sidewalk.

End Melanie Jackson on the side 01