A couple of years ago, I began mowing lawns and doing small landscaping jobs to earn some extra spending money. It was a modest investment with a tantalizing potential. In our small town, the only job options seemed to be fast food joints, the pizza place, the convenience mart, or the grocery store. None of those options appealed to me. I craved freedom in my daily life and the joy of being outdoors when the weather was pleasant.

Initially, my business progressed slower than I had hoped, but then I met Mrs. Edwards. She became my first regular customer and, through her glowing recommendations to her friends, my business started to flourish.

Mrs. Edwards lived on a charming, wooded corner lot with a fenced-in backyard that was like a private sanctuary. Her yard was small but beautifully adorned with an array of flowers, bushes, and trees, adding a touch of magic and a fair amount of work. Despite being easily twice my age, Mrs. Edwards was strikingly attractive. She took impeccable care of herself, radiating a timeless allure.

She often took an active role when I arrived to work, providing detailed instructions with a hands-on approach. Her attire was always a delightful distraction—often an assortment of bikinis, tight shorts, and cut-off shirts that showcased her enviable figure. She seemed to revel in the sun and didn’t mind if I couldn’t help but glance. Admittedly, my youthful imagination often wandered, indulging in fantasies about her. On those sweltering summer days, her sun-brewed sweet tea was a heavenly treat, a perfect blend of refreshment and indulgence.

It was the beginning of spring, and the promise of a busy season was just around the corner. As usual, I was making my rounds, contacting previous clients to schedule their appointments and lining up new jobs. I had a few new customers to accommodate and needed to ensure my schedule was flexible enough to meet all my commitments. Unfortunately, this meant I would have to cut back on the side jobs I did for Mrs. Edwards this year. To discuss this personally, I decided to pay her a visit.

Arriving at Mrs. Edwards’ house, I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer—a common occurrence. Assuming she might be in the backyard, I walked around the side of the house, heading towards the gate at the end of the stone path. Her meticulous attention to detail was evident even here, with the path winding through lush rose bushes, vibrant flowers, tall grasses, and small trees. It felt like a secluded passage leading to a hidden paradise.

As I approached the gate, I heard the faint strains of music—probably from a local station. She must be outside, I said to myself, enjoying the mid-morning sun, which was part of her daily routine.

When I reached the gate, I could hear her chatting with someone. I paused to peek through a gap in the fence, not wanting to surprise or intrude if she had company.

Peering through the gap, I saw her leaning over the deck railing, engrossed in a phone conversation with a friend, completely unaware of my presence.

From the side, she looked utterly captivating. Her tanned skin shimmered in the sunlight, casting a soft, inviting glow. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, she wore a crisp white visor and stylish sunglasses. Her other hand rested casually on the stem of a half-empty glass of wine, adding a touch of effortless elegance to her relaxed pose. I couldn't help but feel a rising sense of arousal straining against my jeans needing to be released.

I couldn't make out the details of her conversation, but her radiant beauty captivated my full attention. Every now and then, she laughed and giggled, pausing to sip from her glass. I leaned in closer, trying to catch a better view, but accidentally bumped the gate, causing a small clatter. Startled by the noise, Mrs. Edwards straightened up and turned toward the gate, her curiosity piqued but her conversation continued. I remained calm and quiet while focusing through the gap on what I was observing.

She was topples, without that barrier her curves were fully revealed. The delicate rise and fall of her chest as she breathed was mesmerizing, and her skin, kissed by the sun, seemed to shimmer with a soft, inviting radiance. The view was both intimate and breathtaking, embodying a perfect blend of vulnerability, natural grace and sensuality.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief as she turned away and resumed her phone conversation, seemingly unaffected by the noise. Her composure and ease added to the serene and intimate atmosphere of the moment, unzipping my fly and taking my growing cock in my hand, I started to slowly stroke it.

As her conversation continued, she became more animated, her arms and hands gesturing expressively as she moved around the deck. Her laughter and giggles punctuated the air, and occasionally, she turned towards the gate, her vibrant energy with each movement giving me quite the view to savor as if she knew I was there all along

Straining to stay silent, my heart beat like thunder in my ears, and my breathing came in heavy, almost rhythmic bursts. As the intensity of the moment built, a surge of euphoria swept through me as I came, releasing myself in a powerful and exhilarating way.

I quickly gathered my composure and made my way back towards the front of the house, being careful to not alert Mrs. Edwards to my presence. I left a note requesting a call to talk over scheduling options for the upcoming season and headed home for the day.

Later that evening, my phone rang—it was Mrs. Edwards.

"I got your note, and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get to the door. I was engrossed in a phone call with an old girlfriend I hadn't spoken to in years. We were deep in nostalgia," she said, her voice smooth and warm. "I have a few things beyond the usual requests that I need taken care of, when can I look forward to seeing you again?"

"I can stop by tomorrow afternoon and see what you have in mind," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the unexpected undertone in hers.

"Perfect. I’ll be expecting you," she said, her tone hinting at something more than just business before she hung up.

I placed my phone back on the table, glancing at the clock—it was fifteen after ten, unusually late for her or anybody for that matter to be calling. My mind raced. Her mention of looking forward to seeing me was a departure from our usual exchanges. Did she somehow know I’d been outside her gate today? The thought made my curiosity—and something else—intensify.

The following afternoon, I arrived at Mrs. Edwards’ house barely sleeping the night before. She was lounging on the front porch, her eyes grew wide as I walked up.

"Glad you could make it," she said, a hint of intrigue in her voice.

"No problem. Let's see what you need," I replied, trying to match her tone.

We walked around the side of the house. "I need these rose bushes trimmed and the dead limbs cleared, especially near the house, but I would like to get the grass cut first," she said, her gaze lingering on me.

“I can handle that. It looks like a one-day job. When would you like me to start?” I asked, noticing the spark in her eyes.

“Could you start the yard work Friday afternoon and finish the trimming by Saturday evening? I have company coming, and they’ll be here for at least a week—old friends catching up,” she said, her voice softening with a hint of anticipation.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” I said, meeting her gaze with a knowing smile.

“I know it’s a rush. I’ll pay you extra. Would five hundred be enough?” she asked, a playful edge to her tone.

“That will do. Just make sure you have some of that tea you make ready for me,” I said, letting my voice linger suggestively.

“I will, Alex,” she said with a sultry laugh. “See you Friday.” With a final, lingering glance, she headed through the gate and I headed home.

The next day I arrived at Mrs. Edwards’ house around three that afternoon, a little earlier than planned. I unloaded my mower and prepared to get started.

Before I could put on my gloves, Mrs. Edwards walked out of the gate. I was momentarily stunned and couldn’t help but stare. She was wearing a half-shirt and a yellow thong bikini. The shirt barely concealed her breasts, and the thong accentuated her tanned legs among other things.

“I’m glad you made it. I was just finishing laying out. I hope you don’t mind the outfit,” she said.

“No problem, it doesn’t bother me. I hope you don’t mind that I’m a bit early,” I replied, removing my shirt.

She seemed to be sizing up the situation as she glanced at me. 

“Early is fine,” she said with a smile. “But my plans have changed a little. My friend Tina is arriving later tonight, so I was hoping we could get as much done as possible and finish the rest later,” she explained.

“I can get the yard done way before five or so,” I replied.

“Good, that would be great,” she responded.

“I also need an old fence post removed from the garden in the back. I have already tried digging it up but I think whoever put it in the ground used concrete. You could probably just break it off at this point, it has rotted from the weather over the years,” she added.

“I’ve got you covered, Mrs. Edwards,” I said with a smile.

“I’m going to go around back and get your tea ready. Holler if you need anything,” she said.

“I will,” I replied.

About an hour later, I was finishing up the yard and loading up the mower. "Record time," I said to myself. Once the mower was loaded, I went to the backyard to check out the fence post that needed to be removed.

"I have your tea ready for you whenever you want it," she hollered from the deck.

"Here in a minute; let me see what I can do with this post," I replied.

"Be careful," she said.

I grabbed the post, which was a little taller than me and appeared to be an old light post of some sort. She had dug around it, so there was a little wiggle, but it wasn’t going to come right up, at least not by hand. I pushed and pulled on it a couple of times, and you could hear it crack and pop.

I thought to myself, I bet I could just break it off.

I pushed and pulled with a little more force and felt there was a good amount of progress after just a few attempts. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I decided to pull it towards me with even more force than before. It snapped, sending me falling backward and the post hitting me in the head.

Mrs. Edwards hollered out, "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine; my ass and ego will be bruised," I said with a laugh.

"Looks like you have a cut on your forehead," she said, holding back a smile. "Let’s get you inside so I can take a look at it and get you fixed up."

She guided me towards the back door and into the house. Once inside, she gently led me to the kitchen and had me sit on a stool near the counter. 

"Stay right here and don't move, I will be right back in just a few seconds," she said before quickly leaving the room. She grabbed a washcloth from the nearby bathroom and returned to the kitchen sink to run warm water over it before inspecting my forehead. "I think it’s just a small cut, but we should clean it up to make sure," she said, her tone both concerned and matter-of-fact. “Go ahead and lean your head back just a bit,” she said.

Moving closer, one hand came to rest on my leg while she cleaned my forehead with her other. I could feel her fingernails lightly graze against my leg's skin, her thumb, sneaking just under my shorts working in a slow circular motion inching ever so close but still far away. Her sensual touch gave me goosebumps and left me tingling, only heightening my curiosity, as well my arousal.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Edwards said, her voice a mix of embarrassment and concern as she removed her hand gracefully, her fingernails trailing lightly along my thigh.

"You have soft hands," I remarked, making sure she knew I approved of her touch.

She gave a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you," she said, continuing to clean my forehead.

As she cleaned the wound, I winced a bit but tried to maintain my good humor. "Well, at least now I have a good story for the next time someone asks about my post removal skills."

She chuckled softly. "Just be more careful next time. I appreciate the effort, but let’s avoid any more head injuries."

“I think we should put some ice on it, you have a small bump, let me get that for you,” she said. Approaching with the ice pack, she said, “Just take it easy and relax; close your eyes.”

She pressed the ice pack against my forehead with her right hand, while her other hand, still cold, lingered back to my leg. Her grip was firm, her fingernails lightly tracing my skin. I couldn’t help but flinch as her thumb gently caressed my thigh, sending a shiver through me, inching towards my core.

“Relax,” she said again in a soothing voice.

I briefly opened my eyes to catch her smiling back at me, and she instinctively asked, “How does that feel?"

Before I could answer, her hand had snuck inside my shorts, her fingers caressed my balls. “No underwear, I see," she adds.

I let out a small sigh as she continued lightly caressing them before gently giving them a tug. I leaned my head back and relaxed my legs giving her greater access and made no attempt to hide my growing erection.

Her attentiveness was both comforting and intense, making it hard to focus on anything but the sensation of her touch. Her fingers and thumb encircled my base before sliding upwards along its length and gliding back down in a soft and mesmerizing motion.

I couldn't hold back anymore as a small throated moan escaped my lungs. She removed the ice pack from my forehead and placed it on the counter next to the washcloth.

Reaching over with her free hand, she pulled my shorts over, revealing my engorged member. With it now exposed, she had full access to pleasure me however she wanted.

Alternating to her right hand, she gripped the shaft, the frigid feeling of her grip was exhilarating, leaving me breathless before sending chills up my spine. The fingernail of her thumb gently rubbed my frenulum, heightening the building pleasure as my shaft swelled within her hand, I could feel my cock trying to release, small pulses of electricity flowed along its length. With a well-timed squeeze, she stopped its progress, letting it slip from her hands, leaving it just shy of its final destination.

"Let me ask you something," she said to me.

"What?" I managed to ask, my voice strained from my heavy breathing.

"Do you know what I saw on the security camera?" she inquired.

Before I could respond, her left hand covered my mouth. "Don’t answer," she whispered. "Just know that I saw everything."

Her hand reached down and grabbed my cock again, she gave it an intense squeeze and held firm letting the pressure build. Once released, a small trickle of my inner juices flowed from the tip.

"Did it feel good watching me like that?" she asked as she squeezed it again, harder than the last.

Unsure how to respond, I simply nodded my head up and down.

She paused, her eyes searching mine for a genuine reaction. "You know," she said softly, "it’s not just about watching. It’s about what you were feeling, what you were thinking."

She resumed pumping my shaft, her hand moved smoothly and effortlessly along its length.

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts. "I... I enjoyed watching you, curiosity got the better of me," I finally admitted. "It was overwhelming to see you in that way, just as I had imagined."

She smiled faintly, her expression softening. "Sometimes, those moments can be revealing. I just want to understand what it was like for you?"

Struggling to maintain any type of focus, I blurted out, "I have fantasized about you many times but seeing you like that in that moment turned me on like never before. When I unloaded, it was like a euphoric feeling that washed over my entire body."

I could feel my pleasure building once again, boiling to the top. She gave it another tight squeeze and paused; holding it intensely.

She nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Well, now we know a little more about each other."

She released her tight grip. I took a deep breath and sighed in relief. I was begging for a release on the inside but on the outside I was eagerly wanting to see how far this was going to go.

My voice struggled to reconcile my thoughts. "I don't even know your name. Mrs. Edwards?"

She smiled gently and said. "My name is Lucinda, but you can call me Lucy, now let's get you out of those shorts.”

I quickly slipped out of my shorts, eagerly responding to her request while trying to anticipate her next move.

"Do you want to know what I did to myself when I watched you on the video?" she asked, her voice steady but with a hint of intrigue.

I looked at her, my curiosity piqued despite the intensity of the moment. "Yes," I replied cautiously, "I’d like to know."

She took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. "Watching you stirred something in me as well," she said.

I nodded slowly, trying to process her words.

“Why don't I show you just how intense it was.” she added.

Her words hung in the air, adding a new layer to the moment. 

She reached down to her hips and slipped out of her thong, I could clearly see a wet spot as they hit the floor.

“You can watch but you cannot touch,” she says to me.

I nodded in acknowledgement of her request.

She moved in closer in a controlled and mesmerizing manner, her elegance stopping within arm's reach. Reaching up to my shoulder for balance, she lifted her barefoot onto the lower rung of the stool. Her movements were deliberate and fluid, each step carefully measured to maintain her poise. As she adjusted her position, the subtle pressure on my shoulder heightened the intimacy of the moment.

She gradually opened her legs with a smooth and precise motion. The movement was subtle yet captivating, highlighting the intimate space she was creating between the two of us.

Revealing herself in ways I had not yet imagined, her fingers began to wander and explore. They moved in a quick and circular manner, causing a slight moan to escape from her lips. Her grip on my shoulder tightened as her pleasure grew more and more intense.

“Alex, I'm close,” she said with baited breath.

With each passing moment, her excitement continued to grow, her sexual essence coating her fingers as they seamlessly slipped in and out of her hole.

"I'm almost there," she said with a deepening moan.

In a deft and nimble way, she climbed up the stool and into my lap. Despite the rush of adrenaline, her hand guided my cock with such ease and precision as to not miss its mark. I easily penetrated her, sliding balls deep into her warm and tight abyss. The feeling was overwhelming, I just wanted to explode.

“Don't cum,” she whispers in my ear.

Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, back and forth, as she sought to find the right balance and pressure to maximize the effectiveness of the exchange.

“I'm cumming,” she moaned as her arms wrapped around me, pulling us closer together. She contracted several times and with each pulse, warm fluid flowed between us, running down my cock before she was completely drained.

In a state of relaxation, her breathing began to slow. “Alex, that was great,” she said, her body shaking as she climbed off of me. My hard shaft slipped free from its confines aching for a release.

She took a step back and removed her shirt, tossing it off to the side, exposing her breasts to me in a more intimate way. "Are you ready to cum?" She asked.

"Yes," I replied.

She moved back closer to me and took my cock firmly in her hand. My shaft was already well lubricated from her juices and it enabled her hand to flow smoothly along its length, feeling its swelling desire.

Without warning but not without anticipation, my cock erupted. The first stream was hard. I felt it throb as it escaped my length, landing between her tits, our eyes locking with one another as it released. I closed my eyes and let my head roll back just as the second and third wave pulsed from my engorged member.

"That's it, Alex, let it all go," she said as I continued moaning and shaking with increased pleasure.

Her hand slowed as my spasms dwindled but her grip held firm as she coaxed out everything I had left to give.

When I was completely finished, she grabbed the washcloth from the counter and we proceeded to clean each other up the best we could.

"Tina will be here soon and I need to get a shower and freshen up," she said.

"Okay," I said and went about gathering my clothes, preparing to leave.

"You know, Tina wants to meet you, she said, and I think the two of you might hit it off. How does tomorrow sound?" she asked.

"I think I can stop by, same time," I said with a curious grin.

"Let's make it later, say around seven?" she asked without hesitation and a hint of seriousness.

"Great, I'll see you then," I said before heading out the door.

I made it halfway home before realizing I never talked to her about this season's work schedule which was the original intent of my visit in the first place. I didn't take much convincing to decide that I wouldn't be cutting any of Mrs. Edward's jobs from the schedule in the foreseeable future.