Loading...Jill pulled the kitchen window curtain aside just enough to get a look at Eric mowing her lawn. She watched as he made a sharp turn at the end of the backyard before starting back in her direction. The temperature had climbed steadily during the day and now hovered near the one-hundred degree mark. She noticed he had removed his t-shirt and tied it to the handle of the mower. Clad now in only a pair of cut-off jeans, she marveled at his lean body and the way he moved with graceful athleticism.
It was hard to believe he was eighteen and would be leaving for college this fall. Even harder to believe was that she was rapidly approaching her forty-first birthday. Time seems to move faster the older I get, she thought, watching as Eric made a circle near the house and began walking away from her.
She caught herself following the rhythmical movement of his taunt buttocks as he leaned into the mower, and surprised herself by thinking about this young man in ways a forty-year-old divorcee should probably not be thinking.
“For heaven’s sake, Jill,” she whispered to herself.” This is Joe and Linda’s son. Now stop it. Do some laundry. Read a book. Anything other than what you’re doing now.”
However, she could not pull herself away from the window.
As Eric drew near the house again, she noticed tiny drops of sweat trickling down his well-developed chest to the flat of his stomach, and felt a strong sexual yearning.
He reminded her of a boy she had known in college. Like him, Eric was tall, with wavy dark hair, blue eyes, and the kind of long eyelashes that most women find irresistible.
She scolded herself again, imagining what her friend would think if she knew what kind of thoughts she was having about her son.
She had not had sex since her divorce more than a year ago. Admittedly, this left her feeling frustrated at times, but not enough to risk getting involved in another relationship. Sometimes late at night she would slide her fingers to the warm wet place between her legs and stroke herself to orgasm. Although this brought her temporary relief from her sexual tension, it was not a viable substitute for the real thing.
As she continued watching Eric, she wondered what he thought about her. Certainly he wouldn’t look at her in the same way he did young women his own age, but did he find her attractive in an “older woman” kind of way? True, she had gained a few extra pounds during her thirties, but she was tall and carried it well with her height. Her boobs sagged a little more than they used to, and the tiny wrinkles around her eyes had grown deeper over time, but overall she was pleased with her appearance. Last year she had begun frosting her short dark hair to blend with the increasing number of gray strands, and she was pleased with this too.
A loud clap of thunder startled her from her thoughts, and she realized the kitchen had grown dark from the thick black clouds overhead. She saw Eric nearly running with the mower now, obviously trying to finish before the storm.
A sudden flash of lightning briefly illuminated the kitchen. Another burst of thunder, louder than the one before, rattled the windows. Large drops of rain began pelting the roof.
She heard the garage door open and Eric pushing the lawnmower inside. She opened the side door and saw him standing just inside the garage running his hand through his wet hair and watching the downpour.
“Hi Eric,” she said.
He turned, seemingly surprised by her presence. “Hi, Mrs. Burton. I’m sorry I didn’t get your yard finished before it started raining.”
She smiled. “That’s okay. You can always finish it later.”
“Man, it’s really coming down,” he said.
Jill felt a gust of cool air coming through the open garage door. “I’ll bet the temperature has dropped fifteen degrees in the last few minutes,” she said. “You must be freezing.”
Eric brushed his hair again. “Yeah, it’s a little chilly.”
Jill studied him for a minute. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll get you a towel so you can dry off.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” Eric replied.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Jill said. “At least come inside until the rain lets up. I’m sorry I don’t have any warm clothes to offer you, but I can fix you something to drink.”
“That would be nice, Mrs. Burton, thank you.”
Once inside, Jill went upstairs and returned with two large towels, draping one across a kitchen chair and handing Eric the other one. He sat down and began drying himself, running the towel through his hair, over his face and arms, and finally up and down each leg. Again, Jill marveled at his lean body, and tried not to stare. Think about something else, Jill, she reminded herself.
But, oh, those eyelashes.
“Can I offer you something to drink?” she finally managed. “Some hot tea or maybe chocolate?”
“Are you having something?” he asked.
What I need is something to settle my nerves, she thought.
There was another rattling clap of thunder and the rain fell even harder.
“I might have a glass of wine,” she said. “But I can get you—”
“Wine would be nice,” Eric said before she could finish.
“Are you sure it’s okay? I mean—”
Eric smiled. “I’m eighteen, Mrs. Burton. I have a glass of wine at home with my parents.”
Jill thought about this for a moment. “I suppose it’s okay. In fact, a glass of wine might even warm you up faster than a cup of hot chocolate.”
Jill opened a bottle of White Zinfandel and poured them each a glass. They moved into the living room and Eric placed one of the towels across a space on the sofa and sat down. Jill took a seat in a chair across from him. They chatted easily for a while about his parents and friends, the neighborhood, and his upcoming departure for college. He asked her about her job, and she realized how much he had matured. Not only had he grown into a handsome young man, but he was also polite and kind, and had a cute sense of humor. They shared a second glass of wine and Jill could feel the nervousness she had experienced earlier dissipating.
When the conversation finally took a lull, Eric said, “Maybe I’d better call my Mom and let her know where I am.”
“That’s a good idea,” Jill said. “Speaking of phone calls, I need to call my mother back. She called earlier this morning before I was awake and left a message. I’ll make the call upstairs. I shouldn’t be long. Feel free to turn on the television if you want,” she said, refilling her wine glass. “Tell your mom I said hi,” she said over her shoulder as she made her way toward the stairs.
She finished her third glass of wine while she talked to her mother. After hanging up, she realized she had been on the phone for more than twenty minutes. She felt bad about leaving Eric all alone downstairs for so long, but assumed he had probably found something to watch on television.
She descended the stairs slowly, feeling a little giddy from the wine, and was surprised to find the television was not on. Instead, she found Eric stretched out on the couch apparently asleep with a nearly empty second bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table in front of him. Obviously, he had helped himself to more wine while she was upstairs. She should have been upset by what he had done, but with the wine in her system, found herself chuckling at the situation.
“Eric,” she called softly. “Are you awake?”
He made no response.
She walked over and leaned down in front of him.
“Eric,” she said again. Still nothing. He’s not asleep, she thought, he’s passed out.
Outside, the storm raged on. The sky was still dark and sheets of rain continued to pound against the windows.
Jill poured what remained of the wine in her glass and once again sat down in the chair across from Eric.
She sipped her wine as she watched him. He sighed, and without waking, shifted into a more comfortable position.
Thinking he must be cold, she went to the hall closet and took out an extra blanket to cover him. There was nothing she could do now except let him sleep it off.
When she returned with the blanket, however, she found he had shifted position again, now with his legs open. She caught herself staring at the bulge in his shorts, feeling her face flush by what she was thinking. Glancing quickly around the room as though to reassure herself they were completely alone, she leaned down and gently lifted the frayed corner of his shorts. Just a quick peek, she told herself, no harm in that.
She inhaled sharply at the sight of his semi-erect penis straining against his underwear. She slowly and carefully eased her hand inside and let her fingers gently trace along his shaft. He squirmed slightly, and she jerked her hand away and returned to her chair.
She watched him closely for several minutes as she finished her wine. Emboldened by the alcohol, and more than a little excited by what she had seen and touched, she once again moved next to him. She spoke his name again and even nudged his shoulder, but got no response.
“If I were sober I would never be doing this,” she giggled softly, as she reached with trembling fingers to the snap of his jeans. Once undone, she watched his face carefully for any kind of response as she slowly lowered the zipper. She slipped her fingers into the waistband of his shorts and underwear and slowly pulled them down.
“Oh my,” she murmured softly at the sight of his now fully erect penis. A shiver of excitement coursed through her as she wrapped her fingers around the head and began gently stroking him.
“You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Eric?” she said in a low husky voice.
While she continued to stroke him, she used her other hand to unfasten her shorts and slide them off.
Abandoning all pretenses now, she lowered her head and ran her tongue up and down his shaft before taking him into her mouth. She sucked him while simultaneously pressing her fingers into the soaked crotch of her panties.
At this point, Jill didn’t care what was right or wrong, or whether he woke up or not. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and removed her bra. Breathing faster now, the only thing on her mind was fucking.
“I’m going to fuck your young hard cock now, Eric,” she panted, nearly ripping her panties in her haste to get them off. “You just keep those sexy eyelashes closed while I take care of business.”
She straddled him on the couch, taking hold of him, and slowly running the tip of his cock along her wetness.
Unable to wait any longer, she opened her legs wider and lowered herself onto his cock.
“Oh . . . God,” she groaned, as he completely filled her. She began rocking slowly back and forth, savoring the sensation that she had been so long without. She moved in a circular rhythm in a way that applied just the right amount of pressure to her clitoris.
Eric’s eyes remained closed, his expression neutral, seemingly unaware of what was happening.
Jill began breathing harder and rocking faster as she felt herself building toward what was sure to be a tremendous orgasm.
“Yes . . . Oh . . . Yes . . . Just like that.” Jill panted, as she rocked even faster.
Gripping the sides of the couch, she shuddered as the first waves of her orgasm coursed through her. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out as her pussy convulsed around Eric’s cock in an incredibly powerful orgasm.
She remained still for several moments until her breathing returned to normal. Then, with Eric’s cock still hard inside her, she began to move again, slowly at first, and then faster. This time reaching over Eric’s head and bracing her hands firmly on the armrest of the couch allowing her to thrust her hips up and down.
Soon she was literally slamming herself up and down on his cock, when suddenly, Eric groaned, and Jill felt three or four warm spurts of cum filling her inside.
This sent her over the edge.
“Oh, Eric,” she panted. “I’m gonna cum again.”
“Yes . . . Oh . . . NOW!” she cried out, pushing down hard and burying his cock deep inside her as a second, more powerful orgasm shook her body.
Afraid he might be aware of what had just taken place, she slowly raised her eyes and looked into his face. Although tiny beads of sweat covered his forehead and chest, he still appeared to be oblivious.
“He’ll probably think he had a wet dream when he comes around,” Jill chucked to herself.
She rolled off the couch and went to the bathroom where she quickly washed herself and put on a clean pair of panties. Covering herself in a robe, she took a wet washcloth and towel with her back to where Eric still lay sleeping on the couch. She cleaned him off, careful to remove all traces of their encounter, and then put his underwear and cut-offs back on.
It was still raining when she finished, so she covered him with a blanket and went upstairs to lie down. She was exhausted.
She felt a little guilty about what she had done, but the sexual gratification she achieved was certainly more than worth it. Besides, even though he wasn’t aware of what was happening, Eric’s response proved he enjoyed it as well.
It was two hours later when Jill opened her eyes. The rain was gone and late afternoon sunlight filtered through the silk curtains covering her bedroom window.
She put on her robe and quietly slipped downstairs. She found the towel and blanket folded neatly at one end of the couch, but no sign of Eric.
In the kitchen, she found a scribbled note from Eric lying on the counter. It said he hoped she wouldn’t be mad at him for drinking her wine, and that he would finish mowing her yard as soon as it dried out.
She saw Eric later that week in the grocery store, and he apologized again about the wine. She saw nothing in his expression or actions that suggested he remembered anything about what had happened that day.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she left the grocery, smiling at the secret she intended to keep.