Chapter 2 – Cast off
I don't know if she was ashamed of having been so unabashedly seductive, or if she'd found a way to get Paul to help more, or even if she'd figured a way to get by on her own. Regardless, I didn't see Sandra for several weeks after our dalliance.
One day, as I was returning home from work, I saw her working in her front garden. From the end of the street I could see she was wearing shorts and what looked like a tank top. My balls rolled at the thought of what that shirt must have been struggling to contain. The closer I got, however, the less it looked like a tank top, and the more it looked like a bikini top. As I passed her I nearly hit a parked car as I pulled into my driveway.
I work nearly an hour from home, and hadn't taken a leak before I left. The semi-hard-on I now had helped restrain the need, somewhat, but I really needed to go. As soon as I got out of the car I made a bee-line for the bathroom. I was hoping to drain my bladder and get back outside before Sandra finished her gardening.
I really had to go, however, and REALLY enjoyed the warm rushing sensation that came from nearly a ½ gallon of 98.6 degree fluid coursing through my semi-turgid prick. By the time I finally finished, I had a full on hard-on. I decided to relax and let the warm full feeling embrace my rod & reel for a few minutes. When I finally relaxed and tucked my schlong back in my pants I figured Sandra was probably back inside. I didn't bother to zip up, since I was now thinking of getting my swim suit on and taking a dip to cool off.
No sooner had I stepped out of the bathroom, however, and I heard the doorbell ring. It startled me and in the confusion of trying to figure out if it was the front or back door, I forgot my fly was still down.
"Two bells ... back door??. " I thought to myself as I headed for the back door.
No one there... What the ... "Bing ... Bing ..." came the bell again ...
"Ah HA!! They pushed the front bell twice", I thought reversing course and heading to the front door.
As I turned the corner out of the kitchen and approached the front door, I could clearly see two things; One, it was Sandra, and two, it was neither a tank top nor a bikini top ... it looked like two swaths of cloth she'd tied behind her neck, draped over her tits, and tucked into her shorts. I was instantly hard again.
Still not realizing my fly was down; I opened the door and fairly gawked at her outfit.
"Hey, " I said, trying to seem like I was looking at her cast-less leg. "You're out of the cast."
"I'm surprised you noticed." She replied.
I looked up, confused ...
"It only came up to my hip. My legs aren't THAT long."
I'm pretty sure I blushed ...
"Yeah, well, that's some outfit ..." I trailed off as I returned checking her out.
The 'outfit' was, in fact, a yellow one piece bathing suit. The front had a very deep 'V' neck and came together just above her belly button. It was tied behind her neck and had no back that I could see. With her shorts on I couldn't tell if there was anything more to it than that.
What I COULD tell was that it must have been a suit she'd had 'B.K.' (Before Kids). It was easily two sizes too small. The fabric was stretched to the tearing point by her enormous knockers. The bulge of her boobs spread well beyond the edge of the fabric and pushed out more than an inch beyond the line of her rib cage. The A/C from the house must have given her a chill, because her nipples appeared about ready to poke clean through the fabric.
For some reason it didn't occur to me that my pants didn't feel at all restricted. This view would normally have made it painful to be standing up.
" ... Hmm, I'm glad you like it. I came over to return the rake my delinquent husband borrowed like a month ago, but given that tent in your shorts maybe I'll step in and get out of this heat."
In a sort of slow motion 'OMG' I realized she was, in fact, holding my rake and I was, in fact, protruding several inches out the front of my pants.
"Oh My God ...", exclaimed as I spun around and tried, in vain, to tuck my rod back into my pants. "Oh Shit, I can't believe I ... Oh My God ..." I was still trying to get it to shrink enough so I could shove it back in and zip up without slicing through it with the zipper.
While I was babbling on about how embarrassed I was, she must have stepped in and closed the door. The next thing I knew she was on her knees in front of me, insisting I had nothing to be ashamed of.
In one clean, confident motion she reached though the gap in the front of my boxers and pulled out my, by now, throbbing erection.
"Hmmm, I wanted to taste this the last time, but that cast made it impossible to kneel down. Now that I can, I'm gonna suck your balls clean through this shaft."
And with that announcement she began.
Either she was very experienced, or she'd been thinking about it for a long time.
She positioned one hand under my rod, my member protruding between the crotch of her thumb and forefinger, her palm pushing in against my balls. With her other hand she was gently, even delicately, stroking my pole with her fingertips. Her thumb rubbed lightly against my urethra, while her fingers gently stroked the top of my shaft. My purple helmet strained for attention.
I felt my penis swell and stretch and bulge until I thought it was going to pop, and she hadn't taken me into her mouth yet.
