The Farmer Next Door

I adjust my night shirt as I walk by the window. It's probably too late in the day to still be wearing pajamas... but when my eyes drift out the window and I catch sight of the neighbour working in his yard, my steps falter.

Too young--in his twenties--and surely not interested in a women in her thirties, like me; and yet, I can't stop looking. His jeans are torn and faded, and the hem of his white tank top is stained with grease, no doubt from the car he's bent over and working on.

I catch myself running my tongue along my teeth and my nipples peak as I envision running my hands up and down his strong, wiry arms.

Like he can sense the path my thoughts have taken, he turns and catches me staring. I lift a hand in what I hope is a polite, neighbourly wave. He returns it, then goes back to the car. Of course, he wouldn't think anything of me. He's lived next door since he was a teenager, and I was always just the lady next door--and until recently, I hadn't been interested in him, either. But when he got back from ranch college, or auto college, or where ever it is that he's been... suddenly, his long, lean form was hard with muscle. Not the showy muscle people get from the gym... the farm-strong kind. The kind that didn't look like anything until they were at work holding your back against a wall. I couldn't deny it... He'd become a man, and I wanted him.

My heavy breasts are one of my best assets--always have been--and I make good use of them now. I catch hold of the bottom of my shirt and tug it down just enough to hint at the swell of skin underneath. I open the window and lean out, angling my elbows so everything is on display.

"Car trouble?" I ask, and am rewarded when the neighbour turns and does a double take. I can tell he doesn't mean to, but his eyes catch on my volumous cleavage.

"Wh--Sorry, what?" He gives his head a little shake, wrench forgotten at his hip. I smile and take a deep--chest heaving--breath.

"Don't work too hard out here... it's a lovely day. Wouldn't want to waste it."

He's not sure what to do, so I just smile sweetly and close the window.

Later that afternoon, I put on some jean shorts and a threadbare tank top of my own, and forgo the bra. Just the thought of him makes me nipples grow hard as they rub against the fabric, and I have to gnaw on my lower lip just to keep from sighing.

I make a pitcher of lemonade and bring it out to him next door. Each step sets my chest bouncing, and the cowboy boots I chose have just enough of a heel to pop my ass.

"Dylan," I call as I approach. He's done working on the car now, and heaven help me, his shirt is off when I come around the corner. His skin is tanned from long hours spent working in the sun, and his abs cut a tempting line down into his pants.

"Oh, what a surprise!" He takes a glass, eyes darting down at my see-through tank top. "Thanks Ms. H."

"Michelle, please." I give a breathy laugh and run one hand lightly up his warm, muscled arm. His arm hair is blonde--almost white in the sun. "We've known each other long enough for first names, I think."

"I think you might be right." He holds my stare, then downs the lemonade in one. He licks his lips, slowly, as if savouring every... last... drop.

The next day, I conveniently forget to put a top on, and stand in front of the window watering my plants in nothing more than my white bra. When I'm done, I look down and catch Dylan looking over at me. I bite my lip and wave at him, making no effort to hide my aching breasts from him. He swallows hard, I can see it from here, and waves back. When he turns back to the vehicle, I see him give his head a little shake.

Almost there...

That night, I see that Dylan is having a small bonfire in his yard. It's a warm, dark night. I leave a lamp on and crack the window, and I know that if he looks up, he'll be able to see inside my window with perfect clarity.

I start slowly... massaging one tender breast through my tank top and leaning against my wall. I picture Dylan's hands caressing me, and soon enough I've slipped a hand into my bra and am pinching my nipple in earnest. A gasp escapes me, and I slowly--so... slowly... slide a hand down my stomach to the waist of my jean shorts. I'm picturing him watching me, and it's getting me wet. I press my fingers against my jeans, right at that sweet spot, and can barely conceal a groan.

When I glance up, though, Dylan isn't by the fire anymore; in fact, it's smouldered down to ashes. How long have I been touching myself?

That's when I hear the knock at my door. I hurriedly pull my tanktop back up over my boobs, and go to answer it. It's Dylan.

"I could see you," He starts, voice heavy. I bite my lip, already too horny to make good decisions.

"Did you like it?" I whisper. He gives a scoff, halfway to a laugh, and indicates a bulge pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

"Like it?" He leans one arm against the door frame, towering over me, and yanks me to him. "I came over here to show you how it's done."

He pulls me to him, hard enough that I feel my chest press against his lean body. Suddenly, everything we're about to do comes crashing into my mind. We shouldn't do this. He's the neighbour boy, for goodness sake... only he's all grown up, now. I've been friends with his mother for nearly fifteen years--but for some reason, I just don't care about that at the moment. One word escapes my lips.

"Yes."

Dylan moans in response, as if he was barely holding himself back, and steps inside, slamming the door behind us. I'm still locked against his body when he starts kissing me. He tastes like salt and sun--his lips are chapped--and when his tongue slips past my lips, I think my world might just explode.

He groans into my mouth again and hoists me into the air as if I weigh nothing at all. I've always been curvy, but it's clearly nothing for this powerful man. He slams me against the wall and pins me there, hip to hip, as we devour each other's mouths.

"You've been--driving me crazy all day," He whispers. "Bite me." I sink my teeth against his lower lip, and his hips buck in response, slamming my lower back against the wall. "Oh fuck--Michelle." His hands, steadier than I thought they would be for a man freshly into his mid-twenties, press against my stomach. He massages my skin, even as I fee his erection harden.

"Touch me," I whimper into his mouth, and he is quick to listen. His big hands slip into my shirt and drag up my stomach, worshipping me, and cup the bottom of my bra. He lifts my heavy breasts and drops them again, testing their weight, before he gets a firm hold on them. His thumbs work magic through the fabric of my bra, and when I grind my hips into his erection, it's like he can't stand it anymore.

Suddenly he's lifted my bra and is flicking and pinching my nipples under my shirt, and it's so much better than my imagination. I bite his lip again, and he squeezes hard enough to make me gasp. Another second later, he's pulled my breasts out the top of my shirt. They're swollen, heavy with longing, and he lifts one to his mouth.

"Suck on me," I beg, and then his hot mouth closes over my nipple. It's so sensitive that I cry out, and he nips me in response. He brings his hands forward and works my breast, squeezing it and stretching it, devouring my nipple while he does so.

I reach for his pants and find the bulge of his penis and start rubbing him through his jeans. He moans again, then drops my breast from his lips.

"Are we doing this?" I'm still rubbing him, and he can barely get the words out. I press harder instead of replying, and he cries out, then finally releases me from the wall. I drop to my knees in front of him, my breasts still out, and undo his pants. He leans an arm against the wall and looks down at me as I draw his hot, long, hard penis out. "Suck me off, Ms. H." I don't correct him this time--I like the sound of it. I like the sound even more when I press his dick into my mouth and he gasps for breath. His precum is salty on my tongue, and I press until his penis hits the back of my throat.

Dylan bangs a fist against the wall, and I pull back, only to shove it in again. More precum leaks out, and his hips buck hard enough that I gag.

"Take it," He growls. I obey, and work the muscles at the back of my throat until I'm swallowing against him. "Fuck!" He shouts, banging the wall again. I reach up and cup his tight balls, and his fist finds the back of my hair. He bucks again--I gag again--and then we find our rythm. His head spurts again, just a drop or two, and I pull out to rub his penis between my boobs. "Yes," He snarls, thrusting against me. I lick his head each time he crests my tits.

"My turn," He says suddenly, and picks me up. "Get your pants off--get everything off." I don't know how he knows where the bedroom is, but by the time we get there, I've torn everything from my body. He sets me on the bed and stands over me, fisting his cock in his hand. He rips his shirt off and steps out of his undone pants, still pumping that glorious cock. "Open your legs for me."

I do so, and he presses one hand on either knee. He spreads me so far I think I might crack, and then he buries his face in my pussy. His nails dig into my knees as he feasts on me. I can feel every flick of his tongue, every brush of his teeth, every drip of saliva and my own wetness that dribbles down my lips. His lips move to my clit and start teasing it, sucking and kissing. For a second, he pulls away and looks up at me. I almost bark in complaint, but then I feel his fingers press inside.

"You wanna cum for me?" He whispers, breathless, as he pumps his fingers in and out of my soaking pussy.

"Yes," I whimper, starting to shake.

"I want you to cum on my dick -- you got two in you?"

I nod and spread my legs, aching for his mouth--for the feel of his tongue inside of me. He obliges, and starts suckling on my clit again while pumping his fingers in and out.

I feel my climax building, and my hips start rocking, humping and grinding against his mouth. I reach blindly, but he knows what I want, and soon enough, his hard cock is back in my hands. He takes his soaking fingers and pumps himself once, twice with my juices, then goes back to fingering me. I take over and work his head, pumping him up and down even as he digs his fingers in and finds my G-spot.

I scream as my orgasm rips through me, locking my muscles. I'm at his mercy, fucking his face, as he rides out my climax. I can hear him sucking up everything I can give him, until I'm spent. I let his cock out of my now-shaky hand, and boost myself up on my elbows. Dylan lifts one of my legs to his shoulder, and runs a hand down it. Goosebumps follow his fingers, and my eyes land on his straining, rock-hard cock.

"You ready, Ms. H?"

"Fuck me, Dylan."

The words I thought I would never say are wiped off my lips as he guides his thick cock to my still-dripping vagina. He sucks a breath through his teeth, and presses against my opening, teasing me.

"I've wanted this for a long time..." He growls, nudging his head in and out again. It comes away dripping with the white of my juices, and I can see his resolve cracking.

His eyes nearly roll back in his head as he presses into me, and his cock slips into my vagina. The fit is tight--so tight, and so perfect. He exhales loudly, burying himself to the hilt, then drawing out again. He catches my eye a second before he plunges into me.

The walls of my pussy contract around his pumping cock, and my breasts bounce with every thrust. He bears his teeth as we fuck, so hard that I feel his balls slapping my ass.

"More," I snarl, giving myself over to him. "More, Dylan!"

His thrusting increase, until the bed is screaming underneath us. I'm shrieking too--praising him, begging him, egging him on.

We flip so I'm on my knees, and he drives into my pussy again and again and again. He grabs my tits from behind, pinching them as he dominates me, using them to pull me harder against him.

He pulls me off the bed and presses me against a wall, driving up into me, biting my neck, fisting my hair. I reach behind me and cup his balls, earning a groan.

Next, he pulls me on top of him and buries his face in my tits as we fuck, sucking and nipping me in all the right places. I turn around, giving him a full view of my ass, and keep fucking him backwards. He spanks me, hard, and I feel my climax building again. He can feel it too--my pussy walls are starting to shake again.

"Get on your back so I can pull out," He whispers, flipping me back to the bed.

"I want you to finish inside of me," I whimper, drawing him into a kiss as his hips buck into mine.

"Cum inside?" He repeats, and I nod. "You want me to fill you up?"

"Yes, Dylan," I moan, massaging my breasts as his thrusts grow feverish again. "Cum with me -- get me sticky... claim me... Cum in me."

He shouts, and I feel his cock pulse once before he's shooting his load inside of me. The thought of this young man ejaculating inside of me is too much, too much, and I start cumming again too, sliding up and down his penis as our juices mix. It's the longest orgasm I've ever had.

"Suck me off," He whispers as he pulls out. I feel the cum dripping out of my pussy and staining my bed, but then he's straddling me, balls nestled between my breasts. "Clean me."

He guides his softening penis into my mouth, and I suck our mixed cum off of him, swallowing it, licking it up. As I'm sucking, I feel his cock twitch and start to thicken in my mouth, again.

"Ohhh..." He moans, and his hips start to buck. "Ohh---wait--ohhh." I suck harder, and faster, propping my knees up so he has something to lean on. "Ms. H I'm--I'm getting close again." I press his penis into the back of my throat and gag once more. That's enough for him. Another load of cum, less than the first, shoots down my throat. He rides my face until the last of it is gone, and he finally rolls off.

--

I take special care in choosing what I wear, or rather what I don't wear, when watering my plants from now on.