The family was out shopping. I was left at home to begin my favorite weekly duty. Not! Mowing the lawn. It’s a big lawn and I do it with a self propelled push mower because it’s about all the exercise I get. Takes me about three hours if I don’t take too many breaks.

I squared off a corner and spied a figure jogging down our country lane. I couldn’t make out who it was yet, but I hoped it wasn’t my neighbor, Trudy. She would stop and yak for an hour about nothing. I kept mowing and another revolution brought me back about. It wasn’t Trudy--it was her daughter, Enid, back from her first year of college. And boy, had she changed! Her bouncing breasts were encased in one of those jogging bras. This was not the flat chested little girl who baby-sat our kids. She had these long tapered legs and slim hips and waist. Kind of broad shoulders. I couldn’t believe our neighbor’s daughter had morphed into Angelina Fuckin’ Jolie!

I quickly made another circuit--okay, maybe I missed some grass--to time it so we passed each other. I held my mighty machine with one hand, pushing confidently. I guess I was trying to impress her with my mid-forties know-how. Jesus, a wet stain of sweat darkened the place between her tits.

Enid jogged by and waved. I took the wrong hand off the mower to debonairly return her wave and the damn thing stalled. She turned around and ran backwards for a few yards, laughing at me. Then she turned back around and jogged away, her lush backside rippling with each stride and her red-blond ponytail bouncing in the air. Jesus Christ, when did she grow up, I thought?

I restarted the mower and continued mowing, now enjoying a bit of a fantasy as I went. Okay, it had something to do with two young breasts squeezed around my turgid erection--I’m only human. Because of said fantasy and maybe the vibration of the handle of the mower on my groin, my dick began to fill my shorts.

About twenty minutes later, I was working on this steep hill to the side of our house. I had gotten the mower to the top and turned it around, I had just started back down when a voice loudly said my name.

“Mr. Moore!”





I turned at the sound, slipped on the freshly mowed grass and went ass over teakettle down the hill on my back. The mower escaped my grasp and rolled further, shutting itself off.

From my perch on my ass, I saw Enid rush over to grab the mower.

“Oh, jeez, Mr. Moore,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“S’all right,” I mumbled.

She dragged the mower over to me, and all right, I couldn’t help but notice those tits bobbing gently as she did. When she reached me, she extended a hand to help me up. I was still a foot or two up the hill and as I stood my semi-hard bulge brushed against her left breast. A jolt of embarrassment went through me.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Mmm?” she replied, raising her eyebrow. She wasn’t directly acknowledging the contact but there was a glint of something in her eye.

I took my hand away. “Nothing.”

“Well, I’m sorry I made you fall. I just wanted to know if I could get a drink of water.” She put her hands on the back of her hips, the movement caused her breasts to rise and fall sweetly. Her body gleamed from her run.

I looked up the road the hundred yards or so to her parents house--not that far to run for a glass of water--and said, “Sure.”

I led her into the kitchen.

“How long have you been back, Enid?”

“Bout a week, I guess.”

“How was your first year?”

“Great! It was so good to get away from the ‘rents, y’know.”

I handed her a glass of cold water from the fridge. She took a sip then placed the icy glass to her throat. A line of moisture began to trail down over her collarbone toward the place between her breasts.

“Freedom, I guess,” she continued. “Once you get away you find there’s a whole world out there, y’know what I mean?”

I nodded and smiled with her. My eye on that bead of moisture as it traveled under her bra between her round breasts.

Enid took a long drink and pulled the glass away too quickly. A drop of water fell down and landed on her right nipple. It saturated the fabric and the nipple stiffened, poking its way through.

“Oops,” she said, with a shiver. “Feels kind of good, though. I mean, Mr. M, the guys out there--and I’m not talking boys--I’m talking MEN. The things they can do for you.”

I nodded and smiled again.

Enid dipped her fingers in the cool liquid and rubbed the back of her neck with them. As she raised her arm to do this, her tit bounced again.

“I mean, maybe there are men here, too. But one needs the freedom to discover them, right?

“Right--absolutely!” I rejoined. I quickly turned to the refrigerator and poured myself a glass of water. When I turned back, she was rubbing water on her tan, very trim stomach. I also noticed her other nipple, the left one, was now wet and upstanding, pushing against the fabric. Another mistake?

“Gosh, I wish I could just dump this cold water all over me!” she exclaimed. “It feels so good.”

I nearly said, Go ahead! Please!

But she continued by tipping the glass to her lips and, watching me with slitted eyes, draining it. Then she came very close to me, her lush body moving in long slow strides, and handed me the glass.

She said, “But I couldn’t do that. It would make a mess for your wife.”

Then she stood on tip-toe and gave my chin a peck.

“You’re so cute, Mr. M.”

She brushed past me and headed for the door. “Thanks for the drink.”

Just as she was about to open it, I said, my voice hoarser than I liked, “Enid?”

She turned to me. One eyebrow up in question.

I looked at her long sleek body. For the first time I noticed her eyes were green. I saw her soft kewpie doll lips and her long thin nose. Lightly freckled cheeks and forehead. A smile played at her mouth. I took all of her in, feeling my cock filling my pants, and I said:

“Could you baby-sit tonight?”

Enid looked at me for a moment, then threw her head back in a laugh. “Sure, Mr. M, what time.”

“About seven?”

“Great. See ya then.”

And she left. I moved to the screen door and watched her trot away, that magnificent backside strutting easily along the road. I watched until she was in her parents driveway where she stopped looked back down to my house. Enid waved.

I’m sure she couldn’t see me in the kitchen but I waved back. I didn’t even wonder whether she knew I was watching her or not. Maybe she was just taking a guess. Ahh, who am I kidding. She knew.

That night, Enid showed up a few minutes before seven. She was wearing a small, very tight yellow sun dress that excentuated her boobs and slender body nicely. The dress had tiny orange flowers on it that matched her red hair nicely.

When we got in the car, my wife, Monica, said, “I don’t know how she thinks she’s going to chase Sean around in that get-up.”

I nodded, and drove away, pretty sure Enid hadn’t had our seven-year-old in mind when she dressed for the evening.

Monica and I had a nice time eating at a better than good restaurant and watching movie with Halle Berry. We even stopped at a bar on the way home for a nightcap. Afterward, in the car, we made out like a couple of kids. Just before our passion took us too far--I was working my hand into her underwear and placing her hand on my crotch--she suggested we get home and in bed as soon as possible. After a few minutes trying to convince her of the importance of the front seat blow-job, I relented.

We crept into the house not wanting to wake the kids only to find Enid dozing peacefully on the sofa. She was wearing an old tee shirt of mine. It was easy to tell she had nothing on underneath except a black thong. Her large breasts rose and fell gently in her sleep.

Monica whispered, “Shhh.” She quickly placed her hand over my eyes and hustled me into our bedroom.

On the bedroom phone, she called Enid’s mother and informed her that her daughter would be spending the night. While she did this I slowly pealed the dress from her sweet ample body, licking the full cleavage caused by her bra and running my tongue also over her round tummy. Two children had left my wife’s body a treasure for me. No longer the lovely tight hot bod that I fell in love with twenty years before. Now, soft and a little chunky with soft pliable tits loved to be loved. When I pulled back the elastic waist band of her underwear, Monica quickly hung up the phone.

“Aren’t you the randy one tonight,” she teased, as she undid the front of her bra and let her 38DD’s fall out. I hefted them and brought my lips to the dark pink nipples. Monica went on: “Is it the sight of Enid wearing your old tee shirt that has you going or are your really interested in this old body?”

To give myself credit, I paused for only the briefest of moments before bringing my face to hers and kissing her soft lips longingly. Then I laid her down on the bed and, after stripping out of my clothes, I spread her thighs and went to work on her pussy. Within a very short time she was moaning in orgasm.

“Oh, Tommy, yes, that’s it. Make me cum. Now. Yes. Cumming! CUMMIINNNGGG!”

Monica stuck her fingers in my hair and pulled as she fucked her pussy against my face. I kept my tongue working furiously. I knew from those twenty years experience with her that she was capable of another smaller orgasm if I did this.

Soon, she came again. This time it was quieter, her mouth a hard line of concentration.

When she was done, I brought my face to hers and kissed her juices into her mouth. She reached down and held my hard seven inch long and very thick dick.

“I guess you do like this old broad,” she replied. “What can I do for you, big fella?”

“How about a little doggie action?”

Monica smiled broadly and turned around, getting on all fours, waving her rump in the air. She loved get it from behind. I took my place behind where her big ass spread before me. I kneaded her chunks of ass cheeks and placed my cock head to her opening. That’s when I heard the sound--a tiny gasp--from the hallway. I looked to the door and spied my old white tee shirt. The door was ajar. I could see that Enid had her hand stuffed inside her thong under the shirt.

“What was that?” asked Monica.

I said, “Me. Just a little gasp at the sight of your pretty asshole.”

Monica wagged her butt. “Well, look further down, lover. Fill my pussy with your big dick. I want it so.”

I looked back to the door and simultaneously plunged my cock in my wife to the hilt. Monica growled deep in her throat and put her face down on the pillow. I caressed her fleshy back and ass as I fucked her. Watching the shadow watching us. Then I reached under her and holding her heavy tits, lifted her so her back met my chest. I screwed her with short strokes in this position.

Looking at the door I could see small fluttering motions beneath the tee shirt as Enid masturbated. I sank my teeth in Monica’s shoulder and pointed one of her tits to the door. Enid opened the door another inch or so to get a better look. With two fingers on the breast I scissored my wife’s thick nipple. It grew hard and long. Enid licked her bottom lip.

I’m not sure what I wanted. I didn’t expect the girl to join us or anything. Monica would have had a cow if she knew what I knew. But still, the picture of that kewpie doll mouth encircling my wife’s thick, swollen...that was it! The idea of Erin licking my wife’s nipple sent me over the edge. I dropped Monica’s tit and let her body go. She flopped down on the bed.

Grasping her hips, I started pumping my cock in and out of her cunt with great speed. I watched Enid watching us as I slammed home one final time and held myself there as the head of my dick erupted in my wife’s cunt. After the first spurt inside her, I knew I wanted Enid to see my flying cum so I pulled out to stroke myself on Monica’s ass. Long strands of sticky white fluid landed on her heavy cheeks.

Enid watched and drove her hand harder between her legs. With the other hand she pulled at one of her nipples through the fabric of the shirt. Then she turned and disappeared down the hall.

Monica turned around, saying, “Holy shit, what got into you? You never cum that quick.”

She took hold of my cock and squeezed the last of my cum out with gentle strokes. I cupped one of her large tits and brought it to the head of my dick. Some of the cum landed on her nipple.

“You just do it for me, baby,” I said.

Monica leaned forward and kissed my cock head with a smile. I laid down beside her and we spooned, my soft dick nestled in the crack of her ass.

Very soon, she was asleep. I slipped out of bed and padded my way down the hall. From the illumination of the nightlight, I could see the bathroom door was ajar. I snuck up to it and peeked in.

Enid was sitting on the toilet. Her thong was pulled down around her ankles and my tee shirt was up around her neck exposing her huge breasts. She was pulling on the long pale pink nipples and had three fingers stuffed in her beautiful red-haired pussy. Her body was incredible. All sleek and sinew. Pale skin on her breasts and groin where her bikini had covered her as she tanned. Very small patches of pale skin, by the way.

Something about the glow of the nightlight made it surreal. I watched as she masturbated, pulling her fingers in and out of her twat and rubbing her clit with her thumb. Enid brought her pink nipple to her mouth and bit into it with her teeth, stretching the flesh.

Enid looked around the small room and quickly spied something. She reached over and got a long narrow can of my Nivea shaving gel. It was about as big around as my cock, about seven inches. Slowly, she started to insert the tube into her vagina. She didn’t put it all in, only a couple of inches. Then she started fucking herself in short hard strokes all the while massaging her clit with her other hand. Her breath became labored.

Then she started rising and falling on the can, lifting herself off the toilet seat with her great long legs. After a short minute, a low growl came from deep in her throat. I could tell she wanted to scream out, but didn’t want to be heard. So, she came with a violent shudder.

When she was done she sat back and just lightly rubbed the can over her clit and her two nipples.

I backed away. I was just turning when:

“Mr. M?” Her voice was low. I turned back. She was standing in the doorway. The tee shirt was still up and the thong still around her ankles. Her sweet young body emanated hot energy. Her swollen nipples stared at me.

“Yes.” I whispered.

“Does the family go shopping every Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess you’ll have to find some other time to mow the lawn, then, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“See you then, Mr. M.”

I nodded feebly and turned away.

“Oh, and Mr. M?

I didn’t turn back. You see, my dick was hard again.

“Yes?”

“Hope you enjoy your shave tomorrow.”

I heard the bathroom door close and went into the bedroom. I snuggled in next to my wife and worked my hard dick into her still moist cunt from behind. Monica woke as I slid fully into her. She turned her face to mine.

“Tom? What’s got into you tonig...” I clamped my mouth over hers and licked my way between her teeth.

We fucked for nearly an hour in every imaginable position. When I finally came, Monica was on top. As I shot my load of come into her pussy, she leaned back and held my ballsack. Her hand gently milked me dry as I looked at her lush body, her big tits flattened against her ribcage, her generous thighs accepting my weakening thrusts. I knew I loved her dearly. Yet I also knew I would be screwing a much younger body within a week.

The next morning, Enid was gone when I woke up. My white tee shirt was neatly folded and left on the sofa. I went into the bathroom and immediately noticed my can of shaving gel. I lifted it and with little thought brought it to my nose. Her smell was there the same as my wife’s odor was on my fingers. Monica’s was rich and musky, a smell I knew well. Enid’s was lighter, somewhat less pungent, possibly because of the metal can. I was standing there comparing the two when my wife came in behind me.

She playfully patted my ass then, after hiking up her night gown, sat down on the toilet. A stream of liquid was let loose into the bowl.

Monica looked at me with her warm brown eyes then at the can in my hand. “You never shave on Sunday. What’s up?”

I looked in the mirror at my reflection. At my fingers with my wife’s smell, still under my nose. I rubbed the stubble on my upper lip and said, “I guess I thought if I did, I might get lucky again tonight.”

With a laugh, she reached out and slapped my thigh. “Maybe, big fella, maybe.”

I took the cap of the can and squirted some shaving gel into my hand, undoubtedly obliterating Monica’s smell.