The Landscaper

Dropping a few lemon slices into the lemonade she put the pitcher into the fridge to chill.

She whispered a promise to her husband. "Brad, these guys better be professional or you are in serious trouble."

She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and tossed it on the counter.

Chapter 8

Their house was set back a ways from the road giving them a large rectangle of grass in the front with bushes separating their property from the neighbors on one side, and a waist tall granite boulder fence common to New England on the other. The pickup slowly backed down the driveway, the engine coughing and sputtering as it tried desperately to keep itself together. The part that made their driveway tricky was not the slight down-slope, but the bend near the top that turned gradually before lining up with the garage. Val glared through the living room window as the driver kept adjusting the wheels to keep from drifting onto the green grass.

She felt irritation taking over. One truck? One wheelbarrow? Through the narrow back window she could see only one guy in there. The rest of their crew had better show up in the next few minutes or there would be no fixing the bad mood rolling towards her. The truck came to a stop and the engine cut with a weak sputter.

Closing her eyes she drew in a long breath, then let it out nice and slow. She was determined to settle her nerves. She could do this. Opening her eyes she focused on the fact that Brad would be here soon, and the work should be complete by the end of the day. She clung to that; it would get her through. It had to.

She put on some semblance of a smile, hoping she didn't look like a crazed lonely housewife and stepped through the front door. Glancing at the truck she could see it was on its last legs. The rust, dings, scrapes, holes and other 'features' showed it had a long eventful life. They say first impressions stick with you. Well this impression was not good. A professional landscapers reputation is partly built on appearance. They should have reliable well-maintained equipment; this antique in her driveway looked ready for the scrap yard.

She called out as she approached the truck. "Hi, how are you?"

The driver was still in the truck and she thought he was flipping through pages on a clipboard. He didn't seem to have heard her. She walked to the driver door.

Chapter 9

Val tried again. "Hello! Nice day to be outdoors."

He turned to her and flashed a smile. "Well, gorgeous, you're absolutely right. And we are going to do some things outside today!"

Her eyes locked onto his as he spoke, her mouth hung open. She had been about to say something, but the words were lost before they reached her tongue.

Brad could see shock in her eyes. He thought that was a good start; she was off balance and was scrambling to put together what was happening.

"Please close your mouth my lady, you'll attract blackflies. Funny story, we New Englander's were brought up calling those small springtime bugs that fly up your nose and into your eyes 'mayflies'," Brad postured as if he were telling a grand tale to a rapt listener. "In fact, those bastard little bugs are called blackflies. Mayflies are a totally different thing and are related to the king of cool insects, the dragonfly, and can be found near ponds and streams."

"That is riveting," she said softly as he finished, still looking into his eyes. Her lips compressing into a little mischievous smile, crooked on one side, as she made a blatant show of adjusting her breasts. She was ready to play.

She looked up at the old Boston baseball hat he wore; the one he got several years ago while they spent a day in the city. It was ragged and stained now, as was the gray 'Boston Harbor' t-shirt he was wearing. She peeked into the cab to see his paint stained moss green cargo shorts. He was wearing the rattiest outfit he owned.

Val stepped back as Brad opened the door and climbed out of the truck. To fill out his outfit he wore black socks pulled unevenly up his calves and his old beat up steel toed boots. He noticed the brief pained expression on her face when she looked at the socks and boots and he thought he heard her sigh a little. He almost chuckled.

Brad extended his hand, "I'm Dick, Dick Landscaper. I'm here to service... hmm... well," he smiled, "anything that needs servicing." He glanced down at her exposed legs. "And you are Mrs?"

"Um, that's Ms." Val said. "Ms. Taylor."

Brad looked confused for a moment. "Uh, my apologies. The main office told me that the cougar that lived here was married. They also said she was one hot piece of ass," he grinned.

Val raised one eyebrow and put a look of annoyance on her face. She was willing to tolerate his little show for the moment because she was thrilled he went through the effort to set this up.

He looked her up and down again then said, "I can see they were wrong. I'd say you are more of a minx."

Her eyes softened. She rather liked the stage name she used for her office performance last month. Lily Mynx. She knew he liked it too.

She smiled sweetly back at him. "Well, let's just say I like to keep my options open. Marriage can be so," she paused for a moment as if trying to find the right word, "stifling."

"I understand," Dick said, winking at her. "Always having someone around nagging, and not doing anything you like, and it's always me, me, me..."

He trailed off as her smile visibly faded.

He coughed into his hand and quickly said, "Anyway, let's take a look at what we're doing here today. Shall we?"

"Good idea."

He smiled and glanced at his clipboard. "Okey-dokey. We're going to take a good look at your hedge to see if it needs trimming. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes. My hedge needs a good trimming!"

He nodded, appreciating her enthusiasm. "I see you have a tree that needs planting," he said gesturing to a small Japanese Maple off to the side in the yard, its root ball wrapped in burlap. "Ms. Taylor, you'll have to tell me if you want it planted in your back yard or your front yard," Dick said as he deliberately checked her out. "I think either would do nicely."

"Or both," she said casually.

His eyebrows raised at her comment. He deliberately looked at her breasts which pressed against the rose colored tight fit women's v-neck shirt, then on to her gray Capri pants, even going so far as to get a look around to see her ass. "It's very important that we plant it just where you want it."

"I am kind of picky, we may have to try a few different things before I decide where I like it," she said a little breathily.

"That's quite all right, you take all the time you need," he smiled. "While you're deciding, we'll take care of any other peripherals that need attention."

"You said 'we', but it is only just you here," she prompted.

"Oh, the rest of the guys should be here any time," he replied. "Based on what I see they are going to love working in your yard."

"There will be more of you? At the same time?" She clasped her hands together and bounced up and down excitedly. "That sounds wonderful!"

Smile gone, he looked at her levelly for a moment before speaking. "Well don't get too excited. They have a habit of going to the wrong house. In any case, I'm here, and I'll do my best to do all the work in your yard to your satisfaction."

She smiled wickedly, "Oh, ok, that sounds nice too." She made her voice sound slightly sweet and little disappointed at the same time.

Keeping a straight face he handed her the clipboard and said, "Yes, well, Ms. Taylor, if you'll just sign here I think we can get started."

"Yay!" she said excitedly, scribbling onto the clipboard.

Chapter 10

"Ms. Taylor," he put emphasis on the Ms.. "First, I'll need to get a good look at what I have to work with."

"Do you want to see my front yard, or my back?"

"Ms. Taylor, I think it best if I see all of it."

"Of course, Dick. You don't mind if I call you Dick, do you? Lets start with the back."

With that she turned and slowly walked back toward the house, swaying her hips seductively, or at least as seductively as she could in capri pants. She placed her hands on her hips and slowly slid them, palms down, across her ass to smooth the already smooth fabric.

They entered into a sitting room where framed photos of their kids and family vacations hung on the walls. Smiling faces and exotic locations filled the pictures. As they moved into the kitchen Val spun around, closing the distance between them until her breasts pressed lightly against his chest. Brad could feel her hard nipples pressing against him.

She watched him lick his lips, then lifted her gaze up to meet his. "Dick. Would you like some fresh lemonade? This morning I squeezed some lemons until I got every drop of juice from them. Delicious."

He could feel his mouth working as he tried to speak, but he could only look at her. Her dark eyes held him; beautiful, like pools of onyx. He wanted to grab her and kiss her hard.

She smiled sweetly. "I think you could use some lemonade."

He nodded.

She took two glasses from the cabinet and poured.

"Thank you," he said, taking the glass. He took a long drink. The liquid was cool and helped settle his nerves.

She watched him, sipping from her glass. His gaze was lower, looking at her body, legs, hips, and chest. She saw hunger in his eyes.

"Dick," she said softly, "follow me."

She took his hand and led him across the kitchen toward the screen door. It squeaked as she pushed it open and they went out onto the deck. The sun slid behind clouds making for a pleasant not-too-hot morning. On one side of the deck was a grill and a patio table with chairs. On the other side three steps led down to the soft green lawn which was plush and in need of a mow. There was a brand new picnic table and a fire pit set a little away from the house.

"Ms. Taylor, your back yard looks amazing."

He spun her around and slipped one arm around the small of her back and tangled his other hand in her hair and kissed her hard. If she was surprised she didn't show it, reciprocating with an impassioned kiss. He felt her fingernails dig into his back as she grasped him tight.

He took in the beauty of her eyes, he tasted her lips, touched the smooth skin of her neck, and felt the push of her tits against his chest. She was amazing. It didn't matter what she was wearing or what was going on. She turned him on; she was the only light in the room for him, the only thing there. Her smile touched the small creases at the corner of her eye. He found that sexy, and leaned in to kiss her pouty lips.

"Dick," she breathed, nibbling his lower lip, "Do you see anything you can work with?"

"Ms. Taylor, I think I need to complete my evaluation."

He lifted her by the waist and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. His arms pulled her tight locking her body against his. He loved the feel of her breasts mashed against him. He imagined pulling her shirt off and squeezing her tits, and sucking on her perfect nipples. He felt the blood in his veins quicken at the thought, and his pants become tighter as his cock began to swell.

Dick walked her over to the picnic table, and sat her on the edge, not leaving the place between her legs. Their hands groped and moved over each other as they kissed, their lips reckless and sloppy like teenagers. His fingers pulled at the fabric of her shirt, pulling it free of her capri pants. Immediately his hands slid under and he began caressing and massaging the soft skin of her back as their tongues danced. He became acutely aware of the heat radiating from her body as they felt each other up.

One of her hands slid under his shirt and her hand pressed against his hard smooth stomach. She let her fingertips trace his muscles, slowly moving to his chest until she was able to pinch and pull one nipple. He groaned into her mouth and they continued to kiss and taste each others tongues. Her other hand moved in the other direction, finding his erection through his pants and began rubbing at it firmly. This made him groan again. He tried to back away to escape her hand on his cock, but her legs were locked behind him.

In moments he felt the familiar ache in his cock which he recognized as the first step to his build up to orgasm. It was distant, but it made itself known. As much as he would like to kiss her forever, and to suck and nibble at her tongue, he knew he needed to change up the action. He wanted this to last as long as he could make it.

"Ms. Taylor," he breathed as he broke their lip lock, "I need to continue my evaluation."

"Oh? You haven't found anything to work with yet?"

"I take pride in being thorough Ms.. From what I've seen so far, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

She gave him a level look then said, "Well that's a relief."

He gave her his most charming smile. "Please, off the table."

She did as she was asked, releasing his legs and shimmying off the table. She pulled her shirt off and unclipped her bra, tossing them to the grass. He took a moment to appreciate her breasts before he pulled her in for a quick kiss; just as quickly he let her go.

"Ms. Taylor, please turn around."

Her eyebrows raised a little, but she she did as she was told.

"Take a look at the yard and imagine what you'd like to see." His hands lightly touched her shoulders then slowly slid down to her sides and across her ribs. "Picture flower beds, shrubberies and garden gnomes, all living together..."

Softly she said, "No garden gnomes."

"Yea, they're kind of creepy," he breathed into her ear.

He dropped to his knees behind her and nuzzled his face into her ass, his hands sliding up her thighs to her waist. He heard her make a soft sound, almost a sigh; it was a sound she made when something felt good, a sign she wanted more.

The fabric of her pants was soft and flower scented, its smoothness soothing and calming on his cheek. His fingers moved to the button on the front of her capris and deftly undid it. The zipper made a satisfying sound as the teeth slowly parted. Pulling open the front of her pants, his fingers traced across her smooth silk panties. His fingers hooked into the waist of her pants and he tugged at them. Slowly she wiggled her hips until her pants slid over her ass and down her legs. She stepped out of them, flipping them to one side with a toe.

Dick smiled, appreciating the lilac polka dot panties she wore. They had narrow bands of fabric on the sides, thin, like a string bikini. He placed one palm on her back and gently pushed. Slowly she bent over the picnic table at the waist, pressing her ass back onto him. As her soft ass cheeks touched his face he guided his mouth between the smooth globes. He breathed in her scent, the scent of her pussy that he loved so much, and felt the heat of her.

She raised her hips a little so he could get better access to her pussy. He pulled aside the fabric with one finger and spread her cheeks with his hands. Like a hummingbird his tongue darted in to taste her nectar. The taste was sharp and unique, the taste of woman, the taste of his wife. He would never tire of it. His tongue explored her pussy as much as it could in this position, tracing her moist lips and flicking into her pink depths.

She rolled her hips a little, her breath catching, hands pressed to the table top. She made a purring sound deep in her chest.

He was teasing her. In this position she could do little but take the attention he was giving her, and he wondered how much longer she would allow it before upping the game. He decided to test her. Starting again he slipped his tongue through her wet valley, slowly, savoring her, not stopping until his tongue crossed her perineum and pressed onto her asshole. Roughly he grabbed her ass cheeks, spreading them, squeezing them hard as he teased her tight asshole with his tongue, circling it, pressing on it. It resisted him.

She groaned, sharp and guttural, then pushed her hips back forcing him from her. She spun around and pulled him to his feet.

Her eyes were dark and intense, her gaze stern and serious. He knew he had pushed her boundary. He smiled and gave her a wink; she hadn't scolded him, so he took that as a positive.

"Ms. Taylor," he said politely, "your yard appears to be in excellent order. Maybe a little trimming the verge, a touch up here and there, just to spruce it up a bit."

"Oh really? And how much will 'sprucing it up' cost me?"

"Well, that all depends on how much work is needed to complete the job to your satisfaction."

"I can be very particular. Are you sure you are up for the job?"

"I charge by the hour."

She smiled a crooked smile. "Then you had better get started."

They moved to each other, arms circling into an embrace. They kissed, deep and passionate. Her hands moved over his ass and up to his back. She licked his lips, tasting her own sweet honey still on his face. His erection throbbed as he tasted her pussy on her tongue.

His hands slid to her lower back and he gave her a quick hard squeeze. She moaned into his mouth. Her hands moved to the bulge at the front of his pants. Fumbling, she unbuckled his belt and managed to undo the button and zipper. Hooking her fingers into the sides of his cargo-shorts she tugged and they fell to his ankles. The bulge in his boxer briefs was pressing hard at the fabric. She pulled them down, his cock springing free, bouncing a few times.

"You are an excitable one, aren't you?" she said.

She stepped back and slid her fingers into the sides of her panties. Smiling, she watched his face as she shimmied her hips until they fell to the ground. That was about the most seductive thing he had ever seen her do; her hips in slow motion, side to side, graceful and smooth, her smile crooked, her eyes sparkling.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked.

"Ms. Taylor. I'm a professional. Of course I know what I'm doing."

She smirked, looking skeptical.

He looked her up and down, admiring her slender frame, her firm breasts, her lightly tanned skin and the neat triangle of dark hair above her treasure. Again he slid his arms around her, nuzzling into the smooth skin of her neck, his lips nipping at her as he moved behind her ear.

She sighed and let her fingers slide up and down his back. Balancing on one leg, she hooked the other behind his calf, clinging to him as he teased an ear lobe.

Then he motioned to the ground, gently pulling her down until they spooned on the soft grass; he enjoyed the coolness of it underneath him, with her warm body pressed against him. He continued to kiss her neck as his hand slid across her stomach and up to cup the firm smooth flesh of one breast. He teasing the nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers; her breath caught as he played with it.

She moved her leg as his hand moved down to her mound and on to her hot sex. His fingertips began to move around and around on her moist clit, occasionally slipping down to her smooth passage. She moaned and pulled his hair as he played with her.

The little noises she made satisfied him at first, but he began to need more. She may have sensed this, or felt it as his hard cock pressed into her ass cheek. She raised her leg to give him easier access, but he only guided his cock-head through her slick slit, not entering her honey-hole. She gasped and pushed her hips back against his hard dick, but he pulled back, not letting himself enter her.

"Ms. Taylor, not so fast," he whispered. "This is a delicate procedure. If you don't plant it correctly, sometimes it doesn't take root way you'd like."

"Shut up and fuck me," she said in a hard whisper. Her hips were grinding against him, trying to catch the head of his cock, trying to get it to slide into her.