Missed a Spot

I was way up on a ladder when she jogged by so I couldn't see much but I did notice that she turned around at the end of the cul-de-sac and then headed back into her driveway, which was directly across the street from the house I was painting. So they next day I made sure I was near the road when she made her return trip. Early 40's, fit from the morning jogs, and then she noticed me looking and instead of the sneer reserved for rude construction workers she smiled and sort of waved. I waved back of course and that started our daily ritualistic greetings in the early a. m. Around 9 every morning a sedan left with a man inside, which I was sure was her hubby. Someone had to fund the Mc Mansion they lived in.

Sometimes I tried to make small talk about the weather, but she never slowed her pace much in making some courteous reply. She always smiled, though, so I always managed to be off the ladder and near the road when she jogged by.

After a week and a half of this I was nearly done painting the house across the street from hers and instead of cruising past she slowed to a walk and said, "It looks like you're about done."

"Yeah," I replied. "One more finish coat one the fascia and that'll do it. How does it look?"

"Nice," she said, stopping completely and studying my work. Then she pointed at a part of the house near the roof line. "But I think you missed a spot."

I looked where I thought she was pointing and didn't see what she meant so I stood closer by her side to find it. Then I noticed her grin and smiled also. "Oh that," I said. "I always leave one spot untouched so they'll call me back soon to fix it. Job security you know."

She took a half second to study me before laughing. "Good plan. I'll be sure to call someone else when our house needs to be painted.

I looked at her brick home and said, " I don't paint bricks. But if you have any other work, here's my card."

She took it from me and read. "Nice to meet you, Ben. I'm Helen."

"Pleasure's all mine." We shook hands and just that touch turned me on, but I tried not to let it show. I watched her walk away, just-round-enough-ass bumping her shorts up and down, and before she got to her door she looked back to see me watching, so I turned back to my brushes and ladders.

The next morning I kept my usual watch but she never did jog, and near 9 the sedan left again. About an hour later my cell phone rang.

"Hello."

"Ben? Hi this is Helen, across the street? We met yesterday."

"Hi," I said "How are you?"

"Fine, overslept a bit, but the reason I called, one of the tiles on the floor of our kitchen is cracked and I'd like to get it replaced. Do you do that sort of work? Or do you know someone who does?"

"Sure," I said, "it's not hard to fix. We just need a new tile the same color and some thin set, it'll take and hour or two tops.'

"Great. When can you stop by? I'm going out in the afternoon..."

"How about now?" I said. Just her voice and the thought of being in her house was turning me on.

"Now is fine. I'll meet you at the front door?"

"On my way," I said and hung up. As I climbed down the ladder I realized it took a new kind of effort to do this with a boner between my legs.

Helen answered the door in a tank top and sweat pants. While I was disappointed not to see her legs, the top let her breasts sway more than her usual jogging bra and they looked fantastic, C cups that were broad and round, like mixing bowls. I tried to envision the nipples I'd like to see on them, something big.

She led me to the enormous kitchen and there was the cracked tile, right beside the sink. "I'll just chip off a corner to get a match and with any luck I can fix it first thing tomorrow." I knelt down to break off a small piece.

"All this and a painter too?" she said. "Your wife is a lucky woman."

I stood up with the chunk in hand and told her, "No wife yet Helen, just me."

She nodded and I thought she looked a little nervous. Then she looked at me and said "Do you have to leave right away? There's some fresh coffee."

Looking right into her big brown eyes I leant forward and kissed her gently on the lips, praying I wasn't making a mistake. She let me kiss her. Then she put her hands around my stomach and kissed me back. I held her shoulders and opened my mouth a little. Her tongue shot in my mouth right away and we stood there exploring each others throat while I moved my hand down to the seat of her sweats and grabbed an hand full of that 40 year old jogging ass I'd been dreaming of all week. I pulled her to me and ground my crotch into her wherever it lined up, which was about her navel.

She pulled my shirt off and kissed my neck,, my chest and then my stomach as she knelt on the tile floor. My cock was trying to shove its way out of my jeans.. Helen opened the fly and pushed my pants and underwear to the floor all at once. She stared at the throbbing head in her face, stoked it a few times, cupped my balls with her free hand and then opened up and took my cock in her mouth, deep, eased it out, sucked on the head some, then plunged her face into my crotch again. I almost came right then, but held back and let her work. My dick got so damn hard. She just kept plunging it down her throat and lifting my balls over and over. Two minutes later I felt like I had to warn her, "Baby, I'm going to blow," I managed to get out.

She looked up at me with my dick way down her mouth and nodded as best she could in that state. I leaned my head back, studied the ceiling for a second, then looked down to watch her magic. I took her head in my hands and two strokes later exploded in her throat. She just kept pumping and swallowed everything, almost. A trickle of my cum escaped her mouth and rolled down her chin.