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The Lady Next Door
by John Anais (address withheld)
1997

***

A fifteen year old boy is seduced by the lady next 
door. (F/m-teen, 1st)

***

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 turned 
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 bed jacket. 

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 and had 
painted it a light pink, and she had removed the chair 
board 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 her 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 
hard-on, 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-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 going 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 stud?" 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... 
sooooo gooood..." 

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.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 65