Present Day April 2014

Veronica approached the endless black marble wall slowly. It was her first visit. She felt the glycerine tears welling in her eyes. Why hadn’t she come before? At seventy-three you would think the pain would be gone? But it was nowhere near gone; the pain was searing. He was “only a boy” she kept repeating to her self. If anything it all felt like only yesterday.

In recesses of Veronica’s distraught brain the arm of the turntable was still swinging over the rotating black vinyl disc. “Bridge Over Troubled Water” was about to play for the third time. The sad memories were from a long time ago. She let her wrinkled thin fingers trace the black marble with tenderness. Where she wondered was his name?

The old woman knew she was close as her eyes examined the inscribed black slab of stone. Finally finding his name Ronnie dropped to her knobby knees. She was still sprightly for her age notwithstanding her frail appearance. The old woman’s bony fingers trembled slightly as she slowly traced the sharp-edged chiselled letters. Her wrinkled face was obviously in intense pain.

Veronica’s aged hand held a single rose, which she now leaned gently against the cold black stone surface. She sighed softly trying to let her tense body relax. Her forty-three year old son Robert stood a good distance back observing his mother with a son’s concern. Yet from some instinct in his gut Robert knew this was his mother’s private moment. He stood back waiting.

Ronnie began to speak to the dead the way grieving people often do. There were certain intimacies she could only share with the cold hard black marble. The withered woman whispered raspy half-voiced words and then spoke silently, no vowels, no consonants. The un-voiced words were appearing only inside her brain like painful subtitles to a tragic movie with the volume muted.

Ronnie realized it didn’t matter what was voiced. Rob could not hear her. He had died forty-two years ago in April of 1972. Veronica placed her hand tenderly against the name inscribed in the unresponsive black marble. Her body shivered with tremors as she felt the cold chill of death seep into her skin.

Then Veronica softly pressed her cheek against the cold silent stone that offered her nothing in reply. Her brain scanned a catalogue of memories. She paused and felt her heart beating faster. She wanted to let him know. Her lips moved. She whispered to him wherever he was.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t drop anchor.”

Veronica’s lover was still a boy in 1972, she thought to her self. Well a boy on the cusp of manhood; a sort of “man-boy” she had always thought. He had been drafted in late ’69. The order to report for his Armed Forces physical examination had come at the end of 1969. Rob had been called up in the fall of 1970. When he was killed in 1972 he was working as part of a protective unit for a Sundog FAC (Forward Air Controller) at the Battle of An Loc.

After allowing his mother a few minutes of privacy Bob Robinson approached tentatively. He still didn’t know why they were here. His mother had been nervous and cryptic. All he knew was that she insisted he come with her to DC to the Vietnam Memorial Wall. It was a long way from Seattle, but she would not be dissuaded.

On the way to the Memorial in the cheap rented car they had stopped at a Safeway. His mother had gone inside and returned with a single red rose. Robert had remained silent understanding the need for his mother to approach this issue in her own time and in her own way.

Now the middle-aged man edged slowly closer and was only two feet from his kneeling mother. Veronica had her bony back to her concerned son. She turned and Robert saw the tears streaming down his mother’s anguished face. She was clearly distraught, but her son had no idea why.

Veronica’s voice was weak, almost not there, fractured by painful cracks and memories. Her finger reached up and stopped at a name etched in the smooth marble face. What was the meaning of this her son wondered? The endless mass of black marble and meaningless names seemed to stretch forever. What did this have to do with his mother?

“This Robert is your real father.”

Her son’s breathing stopped. Robert felt his heart jarred. The middle-aged man’s face turned grey and he looked at his mother in disbelief. He dropped to his knees beside her. The loving son wrapped the tiny frail body of his aged mother protectively in his arms.

June 1970 SoCal Suburbia America

The whining voice of Simon and Garfunkel cackled out of the tiny black plastic Japanese transistor radio. “Bridge Over Troubled Water” had been released in January of 1970. The song had been played several times a day every day since. Robert Langham didn’t like the song, but there was no avoiding it since it was on every station.

Rob looked down at the creased ivory-toned letter from the US Army. He had been called up. Rob had been born in 1952 and was eighteen. Little did he know it, but his would be the last draft year to be called up for Vietnam. The boy, for he surly was still a “boy”, looked at the letter in disbelief. “FUCK!” he said to him self. Rob felt a shiver of fear course through his body.

It was June so young Rob had three-months left before he had to report in September. What should he do? It was then the harsh yelling next door broke his reverie. It was Mr Robinson again screaming obscenities at his poor wife. Most probably the alcoholic bastard was beating on her again. Rob hated that guy. Carl Robinson was a violent drunk just like his own dad.

Nervously the newly graduated eighteen-year old folded the letter that held his future. He slid it carefully back into its envelope. Rob carefully placed the fear-inspiring document inside his sock drawer. It was hard to sleep that night as he tossed and turned. He was scared. He had no idea what to do. Who could he talk to? Should he run to Canada like so many others had done?

The next day Rob was outside mowing the lawn of his typical suburban bungalow house. The house’s pale yellow paint was faded and cracking, but it wasn’t like his dad gave a shit. It was summer pretty much most of the year in southern California, but today was really hot. Rob didn’t have a single person to talk to about the draft. No one to confide his fears and anxieties with; he felt completely alone.

The young would-be gardener was sweating in the sweltering heat of the beating mid-day sun. The young man ripped off his white cotton t-shirt. His own mother was off doing whatever she did to avoid being around his father. She had said she might go over to stay with her sister tonight. His mother was a caring, but weak woman. She had never been able to stand-up to his abusive father.

Rob’s father was a physically large and mean spirited man who never spoke to him. Luckily today the violent man was away on a business trip for his military contractor employer. Most people around this area either made weapons, or helped make airplanes to deliver those weapons. The Vietnam War had turned out to be a large “make work” program in the end.

Rob’s nerves were killing him. The young man just wished he had someone to talk to. In many ways he was a sensitive boy and right now he felt terribly alone. The idea of mowing the lawn was actually just a distraction for his nerves. Rob had looked out at the ragged lawn behind his house. He had decided mowing the yard would take his mind off what he didn’t want to think about.

What he “didn’t want to think about”, of course, was the draft and Vietnam. The killing fields of Vietnam were where so many young American men just like him had lost their lives. He pushed the mower and let his mind drift. His nose smelled the scent of freshly cut grass and the racket of the mower distracted his brain.

The young teenager had a few friends from school, so Rob wasn’t a complete loner. There was his buddy David and the two cute Kovak twins at school, but this stuff about the draft was deeply personal. With his school friends he mostly talked about books and sports and the “future” whatever that was supposed to be. The draft was life and death.

Christy Kovak had sort of been Rob’s first “girlfriend” for a while, but they decided it was better to be just friends. Still she’d gone to the prom with him and given him a quickie hand job. The cute tall blond also given him a “hickey” on his neck: the purple blotch had caused a lot of teasing from some of the guys. They all wanted to know if he and Christy had “done it”. Having “done it” was the major preoccupation of all high school guys his age.

Young Rob, however, had never had a “real” girlfriend. He was still a virgin if you want know the truth. Some of the guys in his graduating class had already “done it”. Darren Grimsby was even engaged since he’d gotten Donna Blackwood pregnant. In their spare time all that the teenage guys talked about were their sexual exploits, real or imagined. Rob suspected much of the bravado he heard from other guys was exaggerated or hadn’t happened at all.

Donna had “disappeared” now and everyone knew it was so she could secretly have the baby. At this time being a single teen mom was still pretty much a scandal. It certainly wasn’t fodder for a reality TV series and lucrative endorsement contracts on the Internet. That would only happen many years later. But Rob had never even gotten close to touching a pussy let alone impregnating a girl. A couple of fumbling grabs at Christy’s firm young breast was all he could brag about.

Oh course Rob had seen lots of naked women compliments of his hidden collection of worn Playboy magazines. Rob had no spending money so his copies were mostly older dog-eared much-pawed copies three or four years old. Hand-me-downs traded from other boys.

Rob kept his secret stash of “nudie magazines” secreted in a cardboard box under his bed. Like all young American eighteen-year-old boys of his day the young man had his favourite playmates to masturbate with. Remember people this was a long time before people could even imagine something like “Chaturbate”.

The horny young teen would lay the Playboy photo spread out on his bed. He would let his mind wander as his cock throbbed. These sexy “dates” with a magazine model and his left hand relieved the built-up pressure of blue-balls. But whacking off to a photo spread wasn’t really what Rob really wanted. He wanted a woman.

For young Rob his ideal woman was Anne Randall. He worshiped her Playmate of the month photos from his treasured May 1967 issue. How many times had his eight inches of hard engorged cock exploded to her sexy photos? Well let’s just say too many times to count. Also this sexy Playmate was a blond California girl from San Francisco so this made her seem all the more attainable. Rob would close his eyes and dream as his left hand stroked.

The young high school graduate was a good athlete and at six-foot one Rob had a strong muscular body. In the beating mid-day sun of southern California his sweating tanned torso glistened brown, muscular and fit. His body shone with ridges and toned muscles turning a darker shade of brown under the harsh ultra-violet glare.

The young man was pushing a green Lawn Boy mower his dad had bought from Sears. Rob had brought it out onto the driveway and connected the contact wire to the spark plug. To get it started you pulled the starter cord. The small gas engine roared to life making a huge noise.

Rob kept pushing the noisy rotary mower over the rows of slightly uneven grass. The monotony of the process eased his stress. The lawn didn’t really need to be cut again, but the young man required some activity to take his mind off Vietnam. He had cut the lawn the week before, but what difference did it make?

In the heat the troubled young man’s thick and wavy dark brown hair became plastered to his sweating forehead. He pushed the mower along a row and then back again. Looking from a distance you would tag Rob as a “jock” rather than a “geek”. Even so he was a rather introspective young man. He liked to read novels more than he did sports, or drinking, or even chasing girls. Perhaps he was a geek in jock’s clothing: the body of a jock, the sensitivities and intelligence of a geek.

Rob had just finished reading J.D. Salinger’s “Catcher in the Rye”. He was now reading “The Sun Also Rises”. The teenager identified a great deal with Holden Caulfield. Sometimes Rob knew he was too introspective to attract the hottest girls. He wished he was more “out-going” and had more friends, but he thought that would come in time. The young man had been thinking about maybe going to college, but now he was drafted.

Rob could quote several passages from Salinger’s popular red-jacketed book. One of his favourite lines was, “Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behaviour. You’re by no means alone on that score.” He thought that just about summed him up: confused, frightened and sickened. Vietnam and the draft conjured up all those mixed up feelings.

The Lawn Boy mower was making a hell of a lot of noise as Rob pushed it along the row of grass he was mowing. The tiny gas engine made a real roar considering its diminutive size. Next door he spied his neighbour Veronica Robinson, or “Ronnie” as she liked to be called. His sexy neighbour was sunning herself on a pink plastic lawn chair. Gazing at his neighbour’s ripe female body young Rob hoped he wouldn’t get an erection in his jean shorts.

The horny teenager thought his older neighbour Ronnie was the sexiest woman he had ever seen in real life. She looked almost exactly like Anne Randall, his favourite Playboy Playmate. The sexy wife living next door had the same vibrant blond hair. She parted her coif off-centre and styled it with a shoulder-length “Jackie Kennedy” two-inch “flip-curl” at the bottom. Mrs Robinson’s eyes were playful and ice blue. She always seemed to be friendly and Rob had developed secret lust-filled feelings for her, a kind of teenage crush.

Ronnie had moved next door two years ago when young Rob had just turned sixteen. Being sixteen is an impressionable age and his new neighbour had certainly made an “impression” on Rob. The young teenager had secretly spied on his neighbour from his bedroom window many times since her arrival next door. By now Rob had masturbated to Technicolor fantasy visions of Veronica countless times.

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The young man would use his special Playboy playmate photo spread to help out as he fantasized about the desirable wife next door. When the horny teenager gazed at the perfect breasts in the May Playboy photos it wasn’t a Playboy Playmate of the month he imagined, it was his sexy married neighbour.

Rob’s neighbour’s gorgeous blonde hair was “something”, but her curvaceous ripe body was “something else”! She had the most perfect pointed firm breasts Rob had ever seen. His flawlessly proportioned neighbour also had a trim narrow waist that flared into the most amazing hips and taut, firm, rounded ass a teenage boy could ever fantasize about.

Just small glimpses of his sexy neighbour could make Rob’s cock hard as a rock in seconds. Eighteen-year-old men are like that. His penis would throb ceaselessly until he found a place to secretly whack-off. The young man knew his lusting desires for a married woman were completely “wrong”, but his hormones were raging and there was nothing he could do to repress the images and thoughts that popped into his roiled teenage brain.

Today twenty-nine year old Ronnie was looking particularly spectacular. She was laid out on the pink lounge chair sunbathing in a black bikini. Her body was more athletic and curvy than Ali McGraw’s (another favourite masturbation fantasy girl for young Rob) and the teenage boy couldn’t help craning his neck to take frequent looks next door. The sexy woman’s body baking in the sun seemed so close and yet so unattainable.

Veronica’s swelling full breasts looked so juicy and perfect in her black bikini top that Rob’s young cock started to harden and engorge. His sexy neighbour was reading a book and seemed preoccupied. This emboldened Rob to stare at her body even more. It is hard enough for an eighteen-year-old boy-man to control his cock from hardening, let alone when confronted by a woman in her sexual prime sunning herself in a skimpy black bikini.

The young man was mowing a row of grass next to Ronnie’s white picket fence when she turned and called out to him. He couldn’t hear her voice over the roar of the mower. Rob stopped pushing the mower, reached down and cut the engine by pulling the contact wire off the spark plug. He was careful not to burn his finger on the engine’s burning hot engine block.

“What’s that Mrs Robinson?”

He asked.

“I said you look hot in the sun. Also I can’t read with the roar of your mower. Why don’t you join me for a drink and take a rest?”

Young Rob couldn’t believe his luck. He nodded his head in disbelief. The athletic young man hopped the fence and approached his sexy older married neighbour. Ronnie slipped a bookmark in her paperback book, closed it and set it down on the garden table next to her lounger. Rob noticed the title was “The French Lieutenant’s Woman”. The young man had heard of the book and knew it was very popular with young women.

“What would you like to drink? Coke? Root beer? Mountain Dew?”

Mrs Robinson smiled a playful smile. Her pastel sky-blue eyes were quietly taking in the neighbour boy’s toned athletic body. She decided he looked too mature for Mountain Dew.

“How old are you Rob? You’ve graduated right?”

Rob turned shy and a faint pink blush tinged his cheeks as he answered. His neighbour smiled an even more playful mischievous smile. Veronica liked teasing this sweet neighbour boy. It was all she could do to resist giggling. His body looked good enough to eat, but he obviously was nervous around girls and quite shy and inexperienced. Veronica’s interest was piqued.

“You’re old enough to have a beer I think.”

Rob stammered something, but whatever it was he was so nervous it was almost unintelligible. Veronica laughed lightly at her young neighbour’s tongue-tangled attempts to respond. She looked at Rob’s muscular athletic body and thought this young man was old enough for a lot of new things.

“Reach into my cooler there and take out a beer.”

Looking back Rob would recall this day almost like a dream. He would know it actually “happened”, but the exact details would be blurry.

Every boy’s introduction to manhood should be so perfect. Soon enough they were chatting. Veronica seemed so easy to talk to that Rob quickly relaxed. The young man found himself smiling and trying not to stare at the more than ample charms of his companion’s body.

Young Rob sipped his beer slowly. The malted saltiness tasted good in the hot blazing sun. Veronica was asking him about what his plans were for the summer. Rob was trying his best not to gawk at her appealing breasts.

The black fabric triangles of Veronica’s bikini didn’t leave a lot to Rob’s imagination. Just then Veronica turned her body to lie on her stomach. Now the curve of her amazingly taut ass confronted him. Rob’s lusting eyes widened as he felt his groin throb and swell.

“Rob I think I may be burning. Can you put some of that Coppertone suntan lotion on me?”

Rob’s throat tightened and constricted he was so tense. He stammered a reply that almost got strangled halfway by his nerves. Rob wasn’t really used to making banter with girls, let alone older women clad in sexy bikinis. If Veronica knew the effect she was having on his cock, she was masking it well with her casual demeanour.

“Sure Mrs Robinson…”

His sexy neighbour giggled. She glanced back and her eyes darted playfully over Rob’s sweat covered muscular body.

“No need to be so formal Rob. Just call me Ronnie.”

Rob took a nervous gulp and swallowed the huge lump in his tight throat. Holding out his hand his sexy neighbour squeezed a large amount of sun cream onto his nervous palm. It felt like time might stand still. It was hard for Rob to actually move his arms he was so bedazzled and nervous.

When Rob’s large male hands first touched Veronica’s silky smooth female body it felt like he was the lead actor in a dream. His mind, to the extent it was functioning at all, was flabbergasted to be in this situation. Rob knew it was hopeless to try stopping his cock from turning completely rock hard now. The “fantasy” that had made his cock explode behind his locked bedroom door was now happening in real life.

“Be a sweetheart Rob and rub it all over my shoulders and back.”

Rob tentatively rubbed the greasy white lotion on Veronica’s shoulders. He slowly overcame his jumpy nerves and began to press and massage more firmly. His retinas dilated as Rob gazed at his neighbour’s shining blond hair, her tapered slender neck, and her sexy naked shoulders. Finally Rob noted the firm swell of her breasts pushing out at the side of her black bikini. His cock throbbed and ached and his saliva glands became over-active.

“Rub a bit harder by my neck. It’s really sore. Yes right there.”

Rob kneaded Veronica’s neck with strong circular motions. He had never given a woman a massage, but the young apprentice tried his best to follow her instructions. Rob heard Veronica let out a contented sigh and then a soft moan of pleasure as he squeezed and kneaded her tight neck muscles. The young man had no idea what he was doing, but it seemed to be making his attractive neighbour happy.

“Mmmmmmm……nice!”

Ronnie murmured softly her body sinking into the lounge chair as she relaxed.

“My Rob your hands are so big and strong. It feels really nice. Yes just like that.”

Rob’s engorged teenage cock was now making a huge bulge in the front of his jean shorts. His mind was spinning with crazy images born of too many nights spent with his Playboy photo spreads and the naked photos of Anne Randall. Rob was sweating even more now, but for a completely different reason than the blazing sun.

The suntan lotion session seemed to last for eternity. Rob didn’t want it to ever end. He was in horny-boy teenage heaven. Ronnie pumped more lotion into the palm of his hand several times. She insisted he do her entire body and her legs. Rob thought his cock might explode via some kind of sexual spontaneous combustion. Ronnie’s body was just so sexy and touching it like this was beyond his wildest dreams.

“Can you rub some more lotion on my lower back?”

Veronica murmured softly in a sleepy half-whisper. She was feeling very relaxed now and had closed her eyes. The young unsatisfied wife was in her own dreamy daze and naughty reverie. It had been so long since she had felt the touch of a man’s hands on her still firm and youthful body. The tingles and thoughts Veronica was feeling were positively devilish. Some more prudish Americans might even call her thoughts “wicked”.

As Rob’s large strong hands massaged their way down Ronnie’s back she oohed and aah’d in obvious delight. In her mind Veronica was imagining those very same hands doing so much “more” to her. Yet she knew that those kinds of thoughts were wrong and needed to remain a fantasy. And yet? She giggled so softly it was almost inaudible.

As Rob pressed down on the sunbather’s left side near the small of her back he felt her body jump. Veronica suddenly tensed sharply and winced letting out a tiny high-pitched bone China sharp “yelp” of pain.

“Oh I’m sorry Mrs Robinson.”

Rob yanked his hands away from her body nervously. His neighbour craned her head back to look at him. She casually brushed some wayward strands of blond hair away from her face.

“I told you, just call me Ronnie.”

She smiled and relaxed again.

“Did I push too hard?”

Rob asked with a shy boyish concern. Ronnie turned her head and looked at the teenage boy from next door again. As a woman she had to appreciate his toned athletic body. This neighbour boy certainly was fit and sexy looking.

Her eyes hungrily took in the sight of his torso. Rob’s chest was so wide and his arms looked so muscular and strong. Ronnie let her pale sky-blue eyes linger longer than a happily married woman normally would. But then again the “happily” part certainly didn’t apply to her.

“No it’s just……well…..”

Ronnie’s voice paused thoughtfully before continuing. Rob seemed so sweet an innocent she felt she could confide in her new friend. Were her feelings becoming more than “friendly” and platonic? She knew they were. Yet considering her husband’s behaviour weren’t such innocent fantasies a trivial offense against the sanctity of marriage? Wife beating and adultery must mean a wife was entitled to dreams of her own she thought to her self.

“Well you know my husband Carl gets out of hand sometimes.”

Young Rob nodded in understanding. His own father had beaten him enough times for him to understand how deep-tissue bruises felt. Somehow this shared secret made him feel closer to Ronnie and she seemed easier to talk to now.

“Sure I get it.”

Ronnie laid her head back down on the lounge chair and closed her eyes again. She loved this “dreamland” escape from reality. The abused wife realized from Rob’s hazel brown eyes, from the sympathetic softness deep in his eyes, that Rob did know what she meant. There had been some sort of intimate connection between them that gave her a tiny female flutter inside? Yes her feelings were changing.

How could such a young man affect her like this Ronnie wondered? All she knew was she really enjoyed feeling the touch of his large strong male hands on her body. The sound of his husky male voice warmed her. It had been so long since a man had touched her with firm tenderness and spoken softly. Her body had ached to be touched for months and months. She craned her neck again and looked back with a smile.

“Keep going though. It’s been ages since I had a nice massage like this.”

Ronnie giggled in delight and the lightness of her voice made her seem even younger than her twenty-nine years. All Rob knew was that if this kept up he might cream his jean shorts. Now that would be embarrassing.

“Can you give me some more lotion?”

Rob held out his hand. He tried to think of something other than having sex with his neighbour. As he continued applying lotion different dream versions of how he would spread Ronnie’s legs were jockeying for first position in his horny brain. Can you blame an eighteen-year-old man for this? Allowing him to touch her body was like pouring rocket fuel into an already hot barbeque and expecting it not to explode.

They chatted and Rob felt more and more relaxed as the session went on. In time the massaging and the talking did peter out. The sun was getting lower and the midday’s heat had faded. Ronnie had become so relaxed in her daydream state that she almost fell asleep at one point.

Towards the end they had started to talk about books. Rob was telling his sexy neighbour about “Catcher in the Rye”. Her blue eyes watched Rob’s animated face with keen interest. The teen from next door had never had a woman pay attention to him like this. Her sky-blue eyes seemed to look right inside him. Yet Rob also seemed to catch her looking at his body. Perhaps he was imagining it? Ronnie’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“It’s getting late Rob. What are you doing for dinner? I’m all on my own.”

The soft feminine mellifluous tone of her voice and the relaxed look on Ronnie’s face was inviting.

“So I could make us a Swanson’s TV dinner if you like? Do you like Salisbury steak?”

Rob looked around. The heat and the sexual intensity of the session by the pool had dazed his brain. The hunky teenager realized he was all sweaty and his hands were greasy with suntan lotion. Young Rob grabbed a small towel on the grass by the chair and wiped his greasy hands. Everything was happening so fast and his brain was fuzzy. He gazed at Ronnie’s sexy body standing in front of him in her tiny black bikini. The besotted man-boy realized he did want to keep talking to her. Being with her he didn’t feel so alone and desperate anymore.

“Um yeah sure. My mom went to her sisters I think.”

The sexy housewife’s face brightened. She flipped her blond hair away from her face again.

“So you have no excuse. We’re both alone.”

She giggled lightly.

“So it’s a date.”

Veronica added rather flirtatiously without knowing why. The young man thought Ronnie’s bright smile and the inviting curves of her body might make his throbbing cock explode.

“C’mon inside and have a shower. You’re all sweaty and covered in lotion.”

Ronnie tittered softly as her rather too-interested eyes mischievously travelled up and down Rob’s sweaty athletic torso.

“I’ll give you a pair of Carl’s shorts and a t-shirt. I need a shower too.”

Ronnie looked down examining her tummy and bum. She pulled her bikini bottom away from her skin and checked the contrast of her tan.

“What do you think Rob?”

Her eyes were sparkling. Rob was dumbstruck for a second.

“I mean my tan. Do you think I’m getting a nice tan?”

The teenager couldn’t repress the desire in his eyes or the grin that plastered his face. His voice had a tinge of nervousness as he replied.

“I think you look amazing Mrs Robinson.”

Her high-pitched girly laugh allowed him to relax again.

“I told you. Call me Ronnie. Well you at least know the right things to say to a woman.”

The sexy young wife giggled and smiled as she moved towards the house. How long had it been since she’d heard her body complimented like that? A hint of blush flushed her cheeks. Rob felt like he was disoriented as he followed Ronnie towards her back door. Rob knew he was out of his depth, but he would rather drown than leave.

The young neighbour had never been inside Ronnie’s house before. The teenager’s tummy was a-flutter with nervous butterflies. His mouth was parched dry and his palms were sweating. So many sex-crazed ideas were flying around in his head.

As Rob walked behind his neighbour he couldn’t help gazing at her firm rounded ass and swaying hips. The young man thought his neighbour was so sexy and beautiful he might die. If he did he knew he would die happy. He licked his dry lips and squeezed his hands making tight fists to relax.

Inside the simple bungalow Ronnie took Rob by the hand. She led him towards the back hallway towards the guest’s bedroom. Young Rob’s nervousness escalated as he felt the touch of her hand. Ronnie led her very nervous young charge into the spare room.

“This was supposed to be the baby’s room.”

Her sentence lingered in the air with unspoken implications.

“But….well…..Carl prefers to….well let’s just say my husband seems to have lost interest in his wife a long time ago.”

Ronnie turned and smiled. It was a tender half-smile tinged with a melancholy touch of bitterness.

“Anyways you can use the shower and change in here.”

Rob looked Ronnie’s amazing bikini clad body up and down. He couldn’t imagine a man losing interest in such a sexy woman. Veronica lifted her sad light blue eyes and caught her young neighbour’s gaze lingering on her swelling firm breasts.

Rob’s cheeks bloomed with a bright pink flush. He realized he had been “caught red handed”. Ronnie was wise to the teenage boy’s sexual inexperience and quickly averted her eyes. The older woman suspected she was embarrassing the poor besotted teenager. She giggled nervously realizing the handsome young man was more than a little sexually attracted to her.

“Here you shower and I’ll bring you a towel and some shorts.”

Ronnie lightly closed the bedroom door leaving it slightly ajar. She went to get a towel from the hall closet. She then collected a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. After a few minutes she had it all together. Ronnie quietly opened the bedroom door slipping silently back into the room.

Why didn’t she just leave the towel and change of clothes on the floor? Why didn’t she call out to him? Why was she entering the room so quietly? Why was she so curious and attracted to this inexperienced young virgin? Was she hoping to catch him unaware? What was she hoping to see? Ronnie’s heart rate began to climb and her heart thumped madly. The young wife felt tingles suffuse through her body.

Whatever the reasons might be the fact was that Ronnie moved into the bedroom almost silently. She heard the water running in the shower cubicle. Ronnie’s nerves got more and more on edge as she got closer to the corner. Around the corner of the doorway she would be able to get a view of the shower stall. Veronica knew what she was doing was wrong, but the urges pulling her forward were too strong.

In the shower stall Rob was oblivious to Ronnie’s re-entry. He had hot water streaming down his toned six-foot-one body. Clouds of steam were rising and misting the glass panels of the shower stall. The hot water and lathered up soap was stripping the sweat and lotion and bits of grass off the young man’s muscular and athletic body. Rob’s aroused cock was still hard and jutting out from the dark patch of hair at his groin. He felt the blood throbbing and pulsing as he ached for his sexy married neighbour.

The sexually aroused young man took the bar of soap and rubbed ample bubbles of soap all over his chest. His cock was throbbing with taboo desires. The horny teen had no way to bridle let alone supress the throbbing in his cock. Rob couldn’t help taking his soapy hand and stroking the hard jutting rod.

Young Rob closed his eyes tightly. He let his mind drift. Visions and images played in Technicolor and his addled brain pictured Ronnie in her black bikini. He thought of her ass. He thought of removing her bikini top. He whimpered softly. He let out a deep groan only partly masked by the sound of the cascading water.

Ronnie eased around the corner of the doorway to lay the towel and change of clothes on the bed. The shower stall was steamed up, but she could still easily make-out the outline of Rob’s tall sexy body. Was he stroking his cock? The unsatisfied wife peered more closely. Ronnie felt her un-fucked pussy begin to tingle and moisten. She was right. Her young neighbour was stroking his cock.

The sexy young frustrated wife was transfixed as she realized how large Rob’s hard young cock seemed. From what she could see through the steamed-up glass Rob’s erect penis was much larger than her husband’s. She stood enthralled and silently gawking as her heart rate increased. Ronnie knew it was wrong, but she just kept watching as Rob pumped his fist up and down making more and more noise. Her handsome teen neighbour groaned and whimpered. And then she heard it.

“Oh god Ronnie you’re so pretty.”

His voice was partly muffled by the shower, but still it was clear. The startled wife sucked in air in a gasp of shock. What had the attractive young stallion in her shower stall just said? Her mind spun with her own wicked thoughts. Her hand unconsciously went to her bikini bottom and stroked the outer mound of her now throbbing pussy.

“Oh god Ronnie your body is so hot!”

The unaware teenager was now stroking his cock furiously. His eyes were closed and he was in an erotic trance. Ronnie looked on amazed. She had never seen a man masturbate before—this was perhaps the most erotic moment of her life so far.

The increasingly horny wife rubbed harder on her yearning mound. Her pussy was now leaking and burning with a desire to be filled. Oh god if only she could walk in that room and fill it with that huge cock? Her brain spun. She tried to find the courage. Oh god why was she such a timid woman? She hated her hesitation.

Ronnie closed her own eyes. A soft whimper escaped her lips. The idea of joining young Rob in the shower was becoming a magnetic urge. How long since she had had sex? Months? How long since a man’s touch had made her shudder? Years. Her hand slid under her bikini bottoms. Her slender finger sought her clitoris. Veronica began to make light circles. She whimpered and mewed softly like a cat in heat. Then lost in her own reverie the wife whispered the words her mind was thinking.

“Oh please Rob. Make love to me. Fill me.”

Her finger slid inside her now sopping wet pussy. Beyond the black darkness of her shuttered eyes she heard Rob’s husky deep groan. The young man emitted a raspy, sharp, guttural gasp of sexual release. Ronnie felt her own hotly aroused body shudder in sympathy.

Almost lost in her own tingles and throbs Veronica still forced her eyes open to watch. The teen’s body was doubled-over in the intensity of his sexual ecstasy-agony. Ronnie’s eyes widened in wonder at what happened next. Rob’s right hand had inadvertently brushed a clear patch in the misted glass of the fogged up shower stall.

This patch of clear glass opened a window in the misty fog and gave the aroused woman a clear view of Rob’s huge engorged cock. He was rubbing it desperately with his left hand. Then she was totally shocked. A huge burst of white cream shot out of the purple-red bulbous head. At the same time as he orgasmed the young man grunted out her name in a garbled erotic murmur.

“Arrgh Rooonnniieee…..”

The young horny wife was stunned. But not too stunned to stop her finger from furiously rubbing her own clitoris. She closed her eyes again. She didn’t have long. Oh god for her own release.

To Be Continued……..