Old Ladies, Thongs & Swimming Pools

This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. For fans of my stories, they know what kinds of things to expect. This story deals with similar themes as the stories by wannabeboytoy, seducedHylas, and Dark Betrayal, namely cheating, betrayal, and heartbreak. If stuff like that isn't your cup of tea, then you probably shouldn't bother reading it. I do not condone any of these actions in real life. This is just a story. Enjoy.

* * * * *

"This story sucks," Greg sighed.

Greg pushed himself back from his laptop, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead in frustration. Greg loved to write, but at times, he hated it more than anything. It felt less like an expression of art and more like an excruciating muscle cramp he had to work out of his system. Needless to say, Greg was going through some severe writer's block. With the wedding and the move and all that, he'd been distracted, but he really figured he would have pushed past it by now. But his mind was so blocked off that he could barely get any words on the page. He was in dire need of a breakthrough.

What he wrote wasn't even high art, or anything like that. He wrote fun sci-fi stories that he sold online. He didn't have a huge audience, but he had a consistent, dedicated fanbase. The stories he wrote were all in the same universe, and he'd been thinking about this whole tale since he was young. So, he was dedicated to this style of story, and the current tale he was working on what was supposed to be his grand opus, where all the lingering story beats came together. But at the moment, what he was writing was starting to feel so... basic. So rote. The dull, handsome military space marine kills the bad guys, gets the girl who'd been in his orbit for years, and rescues the cold, powerful Governess who doesn't like him but respects the fact that he gets results. It's just... it was too boring. Even he, the creator of this whole world, was starting to find it dull, and if he felt that way, the reader no doubt would. He needed to add something in to spice it up, because, as of now, it was making even him lose interest. Why did Greg think something this standard and boilerplate would ever get noticed by a real publisher? What could he change? How could he make this better?

Whatever the solution was, he clearly wasn't gonna find it today at the rate this was going. He needed to get his mind on other things. He needed to be productive in some way. He needed a distraction. Glancing out the window, seeing the tall grass, he was reminded of one of his chores for the day, something that had gotten pushed back by his mistaken hope to break through his writer's block. He had to go mow the lawn.

Maybe that would give his backed-up mind a break.

* * * * *

Greg and his new wife, Molly, were first time homeowners, so it was a pretty exciting time in their lives. Freshly married, they had just bought a place together and were still in the process of adjusting to their new life. Having lived either with their folks or in apartments their entire lives, they were still getting used to actually having a home of their own.

It was a nice little house, nothing too fancy. But it was in a safe area. Most of their neighbors were relatively older folks, as opposed to people their own age, but that was fine. They all seemed nice enough. And it wasn't like they had moved across the country. They were still within a couple hours of home.

A cute young couple, they were a bit of a mismatch in many ways. Molly was a pretty young woman, with bright shiny eyes and long brown hair. However, she didn't need to use that advantage to succeed, as it was her work ethic that got her by. She worked at a pretty big company, and her ambition and charm had allowed her to rise quickly within the corporate chain. That being said, her looks didn't hurt her. A cute, sporty brunette, she just had a certain indefinable appeal that made people flock to her. She was just fun to be around, and she was so, so nice.

Greg was kinda the opposite of her. He was a writer, well... more like an aspiring writer. His life's work were these sweeping, epic novels that he'd had in mind since his childhood. In the meantime, while putting those together, he picked up writing gigs as a ghost writer or doing corporate write-ups, stuff like that. He worked from home, unlike his wife, and when he hit a block, he'd meet up with his buddies and shoot hoops or check out movies. Anything to get the juices stirring. Working from home, often making very little in the way of progress, some might say he was a slacker, but he was far from it. Like a shark, he just had trouble staying in place.

He had a restless streak that always kept him looking towards that next project. A true dreamer, his mind was always at work, sometimes taking events that happen in his real life and thinking about how they could be filtered into his story universe. Some may see his distraction and mistake it for a lack of respect, but those like Molly who knew him well knew the truth. He was always thinking up something, creating a new story in his head. This made him a natural at coming up with ideas to write, but it also made the actual process of writing somewhat of a struggle for him. He had all these great ideas, but when it came time to write them all down, he just couldn't commit to putting the words to paper. The next project always seemed so much more appealing. The grass was always greener on the other side.

It had been months since he'd been able to make any tangible progress writing. Events from three or four months before his wedding had been so hectic, so at that point, he didn't have time to relax and write. Then, there was the wedding, and then the move, and now settling in... there'd been a block in his mind for almost half a year now. He'd barely written anything in that time, and there was a buildup of ideas in his mind, bursting to get out. But nothing in that time had broken through the block in his mind. His creative juices were very backed up, and he was eager for that breakthrough.

There were times like these where he tried his best to double down and focus on the project at hand, but that restlessness didn't go away. It had to go somewhere. Typically, when he was writing, he would be distracted by a new, fresh idea that he would rather be writing instead the one he was supposed to be working on, which would slow down progress on the project he was trying to finish. And if the writer's block was bad enough where he couldn't write at all, he wanted to at least keep busy doing something. He always had to be doing something.

And now, owning a home, he had plenty to keep him busy.

Molly and him were a good pairing, as they balanced each other. Molly was very corporate, and he was very free form. She was very well put together, and he was a bit more relaxed, with a shock of dark, shaggy hair, a consistent five o'clock shadow, along with a simple yet effective wardrobe. She was very sunny and bright, and he had a bit of a darker pallor, coming across a bit more brooding and internal. Not that he was unpleasant to be around, he was just a thoughtful, quiet young man, his lack of loquaciousness making his words all the more earned. That being said, get him excited about something, and he could go on about it all day. He was a good person to talk to, as he knew a lot about a lot of things. It was just a matter of bringing him out of his shell. And when you did, that passion made him very appealing.

Molly was very supportive of his profession, even when it wasn't always bringing in the cash. He didn't feel any shame at not being the breadwinner of the pair. He wasn't the type of guy to feel like less of a man because his wife made more money than him. They were comfortable enough with their choices to feel no shame, but sometimes he did feel bad that he wasn't holding up his end of the deal in their partnership, which only cemented his writer's block further. But she never held this against him, because she loved him.

They'd met through friends, and even though it would seem like they were so opposite of each other, they just clicked immediately. Some of her friends thought she was slumming it with the handsome, brooding young writer guy, and his friends thought that he was aiming out of his league. Not that he was unattractive. Far from it. He was fit and warm and tall and handsome, with a square jaw, soulful eyes, and a smile that made his appeal rise tenfold. Despite having a somewhat sedentary profession, he stayed in very good shape without appearing as if he was trying to do so. But Molly was so well put-together and driven and corporate, and he was seemingly so ambitionless. It was an odd pairing, but they fit together perfectly.

They had made a deal now that they were in the house that he would handle a lot of the setup in the house as she worked, her having transferred to the local branch of the company she'd been working at for years. Since he had hit a major creative block lately, he'd been focusing a lot of his time on the house, setting up shelves, organizing, redirecting that restlessness into something more productive. He thought this would be easy, but some of this stuff proved to be more of an obstacle than he originally thought. Missing pieces, things that didn't fit together in the easy way it was supposed to, it was all work that quickly grew aggravating. As he failed and failed again, all on his own without his wife to calm him down, he couldn't help but yell out angrily. He was feeling an almost impotent frustration, feeling like a failure. He wanted to just do something to completion. He needed that relief at completing one project, to get that little bit of satisfaction. Each small failure kept compounding, like a valve with all the pressure reliefs blocked off. He couldn't write... he couldn't put this shit together... what could he do?

He wasn't normally this self-pitying, but he had been feeling particularly frustrated lately. While he was nothing but happy with Molly, it seemed like since getting married, he hadn't had a moment of quiet marital bliss. He hadn't had any of those blissful moments of satisfaction. Other than Molly herself, it seemed like everything else had been either work or some new source of frustration. He hadn't been able to just relax. He hadn't gotten a bit of peace to enjoy his married life since his wedding day, it felt like.

There were a couple factors that were affecting his current state. On top of his aggravation with writing, and all these other life frustrations, it was hot outside. Brutally hot. Even though he had the air conditioning running inside, he could still feel the sticky heat seeping in, which only contributed to his rotten mood. And adding on to all this... he was really horny. With the move itself, and the lead up to it, and the fallout from it, both him and his wife had been so busy and worn out that they didn't have enough time for each other. It wasn't like she wasn't available for him. They still did it whenever they could, but it was as if once they settled into married life, they were on slightly different wavelengths sexually. When he was keyed up, she was busy or at work. When she was ready, he was exhausted and not in the mood after a long, frustrating day at her new job. He totally understood it, but that didn't make it any easier. He was currently on a two-week dry streak, and he was beginning to really feel it.

Greg was hoping that they could finally fully settle in, to get back on the same page and be productive in all ways possible. He was hoping that if he kept pushing, and kept trying with his writing, he'd finally get that epiphany. He'd finally push through everything blocking him in and he could find the peace he so needed. Then, he would truly have the bliss he'd hoped for when he got married.

Until then, he would make this house look good. He'd do his part, help them settle in, get one chore done, then push onto the next. Of course, these specific tasks were simple enough that he couldn't mess them up, but because of that, he got little satisfaction. It was just busywork, and it seemed never ending. Marriage wasn't supposed to be easy, but he knew his wife was worth it. They loved each other so much. Things might be difficult now, but it was solving problems like this that would allow both of them to achieve the life they wanted. Being homeowners now, getting their house in order was the most pressing matter. Maybe solving this first problem would help solve the others, no matter the level of busy work it was.

One of the things, as new homeowners, that they had quickly discovered was that they didn't own a lawnmower. They'd never needed one before, and that wasn't exactly something you think about until you need it. And looking at the overgrown grass, they certainly needed it. Luckily, Molly was outgoing and had made friends with the neighbors quickly, borrowing a mower from a lady down the street so they could clean up their lawn. Greg was more of an introvert, especially with new people, while Molly could chat with anyone. And that's why she was the one making friends with the neighbors, getting to know them and becoming fast friends. And that's why he would stay inside, trying to push through his writer's block instead of putting himself out to the world.

But with the state of their lawn, the generosity of their neighbor, and his lack of making progress inside, there was no excuse for him not to step out into the sun and get to work, at least for a little bit. Besides... he needed a break anyway.

Seeing that the lawn was getting out of control, and knowing that keeping a good lawn would help make a good impression to the neighbors, Greg stepped into the broiling heat and mowed it. He trimmed the lawn in a very efficient, organized manner, finding a small satisfaction in the neat, clean lines decorating his freshly mowed grass. But after about forty-five minutes in the heat, he was literally drenched in sweat. Molly had left him a note as to where the mower came from, telling him to return it when he was done with it. Eager to give it back so he could relax in the air-conditioning of his own home, he pushed the mower down the street, looking to return it to the owner quickly so he could get back home and cool down. One thing about Greg was that he dreaded meeting new people, so instead of wasting time working himself up to it like he normally did, he opted to just get it over with quickly. It was too hot to draw things out. Walking up to a nice house a little down the street tucked up against the tree line, he knocked on the front door.

Then his life changed forever. This was one of those moments in life, those moments that divide before and after. And he didn't even know it yet.

"I'm around back!" called out a crisp female voice from behind the house, just loud enough to get Greg's attention at the front door. Shrugging, Greg pushed his mower along a walkway towards the fence dividing the front yard from the back.

"Uh... hi. I'm returning the mower," Greg called out. He didn't love talking with people he didn't know, so this unorthodox discussion was already making him slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh good! Just come on back!" the woman called back warmly. Shrugging his shoulders again, he pushed open the door in the fence and pushed the mower into the backyard. Stepping around the house, a large pool was revealed to his gaze, and in it, treading water, was the woman he was seeking out.

"Hi!" she called out from the pool, staring at the younger man with a friendly smile. All Greg could see was her face, as her head was the only thing above the water. She seemed welcoming enough. An older woman, maybe 50 or so or a bit beyond that, with greying blonde hair tied nicely up on top of her head. Her face showed her age slightly, with a few wrinkles here and there, but she was still very pretty for her age. She had full plump lips, sharp intelligent green eyes, and a seemingly friendly demeanor.

"Oh, uh... hi," Greg called out shyly, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Just, uh... returning the mower."

"Perfect. It goes in the shed," she said, smiling at the married man, pointing towards the far end of the backyard. "You must be Greg. I talked to Molly a few days ago. She was gushing about you. After how much she talked you up, I couldn't wait to meet you."

"Well... that's good, I guess," Greg said with a crooked smile as he pushed the mower across the yard. "It'd be bad if she was already bashing me. We've only been married a couple months." The older woman smiled warmly as she kept her eyes on the younger man.

"No... she's clearly crazy about you," the older woman said. "And I can see why," she teased with a laugh. Greg, blushing and turning away, opened up the shed and stored the mower inside. Once it was stashed back in place, he closed the door and turned to face the older woman again.

"I'm Doreen, by the way," she said, moving towards the side of the pool. The sun was bright, so it was hard to stare at the pool since the surface was shimmering with reflected light, so he had to squint as he looked at her.

"Nice to meet you," Greg said with a small, polite nod. Not knowing what else to say to the older woman, he moved to head out. "I, uh... I should probably get going. Thanks for letting us borrow the mower, and..."

"Hold on, hold on," Doreen interrupted, smiling, waving off his attempt to leave. "Let me get a better look at you." Reaching the side of the pool, she grabbed the metal ladder and climbed up it, emerging from beneath the surface. And as she did, Greg's eyes went wide at what he was seeing.

Doreen was topless.

As she climbed the ladder, her side was facing him, allowing him to see her shockingly shapely body in profile. And it was indeed shapely, as her large naked breasts vaulted out from her body, as did her full ass. But it was her exposed boobs that held his attention, and it was when she stepped out of the pool fully and began moving towards him that he got to see her best assets in full.

To put it quite bluntly, Doreen had absolutely massive breasts.

It was hard to put into words how big they were. They were simply fucking enormous. They were almost the size of volleyballs, no lie, and despite their immense size, there wasn't that much sag. Her turning to move towards him caused her giant tits to sway lusciously as she walked, the massive udders jiggling and bouncing perfectly as she strutted towards him. The rivulets of water from the pool coated her enormous jugs, dripping down the expanse of creamy, soft skin as she walked. With every step, those mammoth boobs jiggled and bounced hypnotically, causing droplets of water to fall off of them, dripping off her heated skin and onto the even more heated stone poolside. This sight in front of him didn't seem real. The young husband was so shocked by this display that he was transfixed, his eyes glued to her mammoth naked boobs. Each large breast was capped with a light pink nipple, each twisted into a hard nub as it cut through the humid afternoon air.

Doreen had a curvy, mature frame, but she was still pretty fit. Some would describe her as thick. Her huge, fleshy breasts jutted out from her luscious, pale frame. Her smooth, soft, trim expanse of her feminine belly was only interrupted by her sexy navel. She had very prominent hips, giving her an hourglass figure. And her legs were taut and long and firm, her meaty thighs and firm calves exposed as she padded over to him in bare feet. She had a few extra pounds all over, sure, but for a woman her age, she looked really damn good. The only garment she had on was a hot pink, miniscule bikini bottom, scooped so low that it was barely covering anything at all. The only thing holding it up were two tiny strings running high over her hips, wrapping around her waist.