From adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com Fri Apr 11 16:37:47 1997
To: alt.sex.stories@mail2news.alias.net
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Young Guy nails the lady nextdoor
From: adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com
Date: 11 Apr 1997 16:37:47 -0400
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The THC Adult Text Archive: LND.TXT (206 lines)
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                                The Lady Next Door
                                by John Anais

There isn't a whole lot you can do when you're fifteen years old.  I mean,
you can't get a job, you can't drive, and when you're stuck in the suburbs
without any public transportation, you might as well be dead.  Your world
reduces to wherever you can get on foot or on bicycle, and when you live in
my area, that's very difficult anyway, because there are no sidewalks, so
you're walking on the street half the time, and the people who live near me
are maniacs in the car.  I swear, they don't pay attention to where they're
going half the time.

The school bus had dropped me off one Friday in May and I noticed there was a
big truck outside the house next door.  Mrs. Wilson, the old lady that used
to live there, died a couple of weeks before, and her kids were moving her
stuff out.  I really liked Mrs. Wilson; I used to cut her lawn for her and
she'd always have me in for lemonade or a Coke and cookies afterwards, and
she always paid me about five dollars more than what I asked for.  Great, I
thought to myself.  It's not enough that I'm stuck here, but there goes my
summer job.  Tony, her oldest son, met me in the driveway and told me that
until they sold the house, that they would need the lawn cut, and he'd be
willing to pay me whatever his mother had been paying me to keep it neat for
the realtor.  I quickly agreed; at least I wouldn't have to worry about
money, for a while, anyway.

I went next door every Wednesday and Saturday and cut the lawn after school
got out in early June.  I'd usually go in the middle of the morning, after
Mom and my sister Julie had left for work (my dad died a couple of years
ago), cut the front and back lawn and do any kind of trimming that needed
doing.  I guess I did a nice job, because one day the realtor, Mrs. Sparrow,
called my mother and told her that the place looked really nice.

I was out mowing the lawn one Wednesday morning when Mrs. Sparrow's Cadillac
pulled into the driveway.  I had my back to her as she stopped the engine,
and it was as I turned to mow the other direction that I saw the prospect.
 This woman looked like a goddess:  she was very tall and had medium brown
hair that seemed to go on forever.  She was dressed in a taupe suit and was
wearing lots of gold jewelry and dark sunglasses.  I watched carefully as she
walked around the car and got a good look at her body.  She was incredible!
 Her skirt was really short, and her legs didn't seem to stop.  She wore high
heels that matched her skirt and which made her legs very shapely.  She
looked like one of the models in the catalogs that Mom always gets (and which
I take and hide when I get to the mail first).  As I passed her I took a good
hard look at her bottom as she walked up the path and up the stairs, admiring
the smooth swaying of her hips.  She climbed halfway up the front stairs and t
urned suddenly; I whipped my head around and kept cutting the grass.  I
looked out the corner of my eye and noticed that she was smiling as she
climbed the rest of the stairs and went into the house.

I finished the front lawn and went to the back, began cutting and as I turned
to face the house I could see the woman and Mrs. Sparrow on the deck. She had
the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen; they were so bright that they
shone across the yard, and they made her look like she was about my age.  She
waved to me, and I waved back; she smiled and the two women walked into the
house.

That evening, my mother got a call from Mrs. Sparrow; she was so excited that
she had finally sold the house next door to a Ms. Dale, and that I had done a
wonderful job of keeping the lawn looking nice, and that Ms. Dale would be
quite happy if I would continue to do her lawn.  I was really happy that the
lady had decided to buy the house and that she had asked me to keep cutting
her lawn.  She had promised to pay as well as Mrs. Wilson had, and she was a
whole lot better looking, too.
Anyway, Ms. Dale moved in during the first part of July and I continued to do
her lawn on Wednesdays and Saturdays.  She was gone most of the time when I
was there; she was a working woman and used her Saturdays to run errands and
whatever.  One Saturday I was just finishing when she drove her little Civic
up the driveway.  She got out and came over to where I was and struck up a
conversation.  Without her high heels, she came up to about my nose, and
without makeup, her hair in a ponytail, and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt,
she looked like she was about my age.  She was real easy to talk to and
shared a lot with me:  she told me she was thirty, worked as a legal
assistant, and had been divorced for about three years.  She was telling me
some other stuff about her job and whatever, and I stood there pretending to
listen, but really looking at her tits, which I really hadn't noticed until
now.  They were really nicely shaped and bigger than my mom's or my sister's,
and I liked the way I could see the lace of her bra through her t-shirt.  A
few minutes later, she excused herself ("I really have a lot to do here,
Tony"), paid me and walked into her house.  I went into my house, went up to
the bathroom and jerked myself off, fantasizing about her pulling off her
t-shirt, unhooking her lacy bra and the two of us having sex over and over
and over....

The following Wednesday, I went over to her house and was surprised to find
her car still in the driveway.  I started to cut the lawn and Ms. Dale came
out onto the front stoop.  "Hi, Tony," she said, smiling.  "Would you like to
have breakfast?"

"No thanks, Ms. Dale, I just ate," I said, noticing that she was in a short
silk bedjacket.  She frowned and said, "not even a glass of orange juice?"
 There was something that told me not to go in, but I couldn't help myself.
 "Oh, OK," I said and went into her house.

The place looked much different than it did when Mrs. Wilson had lived there.
 Ms. Dale had stripped the floral wallpaper off of the walls of the dining are
a and had painted it a light pink, and had removed the chairboard and
replaced the carpet.  A coffee cake and a decanter of orange juice sat on the
table, which was light and modern.  "Make yourself comfortable, Tony," she
said and walked into the kitchen, returning with a cup of coffee. "Would you
care for coffee, Tony?" she asked.  I refused, and she smiled.  "Go ahead and
help yourself; I can't finish it all by myself."

I took a piece of coffee cake and she sat down beside me and smiled.  The
front of her bed jacket opened and I saw lace and flesh beneath.  I
concentrated on looking her in the eyes as I ate, every once in a while
letting my gaze slide down to her cleavage.  She talked about how she had
taken the day off to get some rest and how she had been burning the candle at
both ends, and how she felt like she was cranked up all the time and had no
chance to relax and have any kind of life whatsoever.
"Do you ever get lonely, Tony?" she asked, and drew her leg up and rested her
foot on the edge of her chair.  I could see a patch of warm brown hair, the
same color as the hair on her head, between her legs and began to feel
nervous and could feel the heat rise in my face.  I steadied myself and told h
er that sometimes I felt bored and like there was nothing to do, and I felt
kind of lonely then.  I had to compose myself, so I asked her, "Ms. Dale, can
I use your bathroom?"

"Sure, Tony, it's right down the hall," she said, smiling.  I stood up and
hoped that she couldn't see that I had a hardon, turned and walked down the
hall.  I closed the door and turned on the light.

Lacy lingerie was hanging all over the bathroom, over the shower rod, over
the towel rods, and from a clothesline in the tub.  Ms. Dale must have had
more lingerie than my mother and sister put together, and it was really
feminine and lacy, like the underwear in the Fredrick's of Hollywood catalog
that my mother got every once in a while.  My cock was as hard as a rock now
and I had to hold it down and bend over to take a leak.  I was looking right
at the size label of a very lacy black bra (32C) which was hanging from a
towel bar over the toilet when suddenly I heard the door open behind me.  Ms.
Dale was standing behind me, totally naked.

"That's one of my favorites, Tony," she said with a smile.  "Would you like
to see it on me?"  She took it and put it on in one fluid motion, then took
the panties and pulled them on, then stepped back and pirouetted for me.

"Well, what do you think?" she said, resting her hands on her hips, then
looking down to where my boner was still sticking out of my shorts.  She got
an evil smile on her face and came closer to me.

"Ms. Dale, I...."
"Call me Sheila, Tony," she whispered, and dropped on her knees.  "I don't
see many of these anymore, particularly not as hard as this one."  She took
it in her hand and began to rub it.  "Does that feel better, Tony dear?"  I
didn't know what to say, but I put my hand on the back of her head and felt
her soft hair.  I wanted to kiss her and hold her close to me, so I reached
down and pulled her to her feet.  She threw her arms around me and looked me
deep in the eyes, then turned her head and we crushed our lips together, our
tongues dancing in one another's mouths.

"Take me to bed, Tony," she begged me, so I picked her up and carried her to
her bedroom.  I took off all my clothes and sat beside her on the edge of the
bed.  We hugged and kissed, then I unhooked her bra and began to fondle and
suck on her nipples.

"Oh, TONY!  That feels SOOOOO NICE!" she moaned, and I felt her hand on my
cock.  She pushed me back and knelt on the floor, and began to suck my cock,
moaning and humming as her head bobbed up and down.  I could watch her in the
full length mirror across from us; she was putting all of it in her mouth and
the more I watched, the more I felt like shooting.  "Oh, God, Sheila, I'm goin
g to shoot!" I howled, but she just kept sucking on me until finally I
squirted down her throat.  She took her mouth off of it long enough to
swallow my cum, and went back to work, wringing every drop out of me.

I wasn't quite sure what to do, but Sheila had an idea.  "Come on, Tony,
let's get into bed," she giggled and pulled down the covers.  She had satin
sheets on her bed and it looked so comfortable that I just had to get in.
 She took off her panties and lay down beside me, and pulled the covers up
over us.  She cuddled close to me and we began to kiss again.  Her skin felt
nice and soft beside me and I followed her lead, stroking her back and down
to her bottom as she slid her silky thigh up and down my leg.  I was getting
hard again, and she could tell.  She was looking me right in the eyes as my
cock hardened and brushed against her pussy lips.  "My, but aren't you the stu
d?" she said, giggling.  "You're all ready again, aren't you?"  She rolled
onto her back and pulled me on top of her, between her thighs so my cock was
right on the outside of her pussy.

"Go ahead, Tony, push it into me..." she said as her eyes half closed.  She
caressed my back as I slid into her slowly.  She rocked her head from side to
side, closed her eyes and moaned as my cock stretched her out inside.  "Oh,
Tony, that's good...that's so good....sooooogooood..."  I was all the way
inside of her; I couldn't believe it, I was really fucking a real woman!

"All right sweetie, fuck me!" she ordered and began to raise and lower her
hips as I stroked in and out of her.  I pumped harder and she wrapped her
legs around me tightly:  "Not so fast, Tony, I want it to last."  I slowed
down and deepened my thrusting into her.  Sheila was panting and whimpering
and I could tell she was really enjoying herself..."UHH UHHH OHHH OHHH AHHHH
AHHHH!!!"  She cut loose with a loud scream and I could feel her tense up
around me, particularly around my cock.

I couldn't help myself; I squirted into her once, twice, three times as
Sheila's tight pussy held me inside.  She finally let out a low moan and her
body went limp.  Tears rolled down her cheeks and I kissed them off.  "Oh,
Tony, that was wonderful..." she sobbed, and the two of us lay there in the
peace of the morning and fell asleep.  I woke up at about three that
afternoon and she was still asleep, so I got dressed quietly and went outside
and finished the lawn, trying to be as quiet as possible about it.

That was the only time Sheila Dale and I ever fucked; not long after that she
began to date a lawyer from her law firm and spend all of her time with him,
and our relationship went back to what it had been.  Before long, she moved
out and sold the house to a young family who had an eleven year old son who
did their lawn.  But by that time, it was all right; I was dating Jessica, a
new girl in school with the same flowing medium-brown hair, long legs, big
tits and beautiful blue eyes as Ms. Dale.
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