My Neighbor Irina

It was one of those stupidly hot days we get in the Midwest. You know the kind, where you just sit and sweat in the shade. Naturally, it was the day I absolutely had to mow the lawn. I noticed my neighbor from across the street had decided it was finally time to cut hers too. So, I fired up the mower, feeling guilty about burning gas on such a hot day in defiance of EPA air quality alerts, and soon I was a soaking wet mess, but my lawn was short and neat.

"Hey, hellooo," I heard as I was folding down the lawn waste bag. A woman's voice was calling to someone. I hefted the bag stuffed with grass cuttings and tucked it against the house. "Hey Tom" I heard the voice again, from right behind me. I turned around to see my neighbor Irina.

She had just moved in a few weeks ago, and I had helped her by mowing her lawn that first week and collaborated with her father to trim some branches growing over the garage. Her teenage son takes the school bus with my daughter, but I don't get outside much to socialize, so I've waved at her a few times from the front door. She and I both work from home, but I'm always busy and had not gotten around to seeing if she'd be up for lunch sometime.

And there she was, in a pair of tight shorts and a bra, apparently having stripped off her shirt, with a sheen of sweat making her exposed skin glisten. I looked at her, with her exposed little tummy roll and hint of camel toe highlighted by her workout shorts. I barely stopped myself from staring at her large breasts encased in her damp bra, showing a hint of protruding nipple, and instead forced my eyes up towards her sweet face, with thin lips and expressive brown eyes framed with straight, shoulder length dark hair. She chuckled at something and answered the curiosity I hoped was registering on my face. "I can't get my lawnmower started. Can you see what's wrong?"

"Sure, sure, gimme a second," as I finished tidying up from my work. I drank most of my remaining bottle of water, and then followed her across the street, feeling a little guilty for watching the way her ass shifted back and forth as she walked away. In a moment, I caught up to her outside her garage. "Is your air conditioning at least working?" I filled the silence as I looked at the lawnmower with small talk.

"Working great, thanks for asking."

"School working out for Jake?"

"He's having a hard time making friends, but otherwise he's doing fine. Straight A's so far."

"Ugh, I wish that were the case with my daughter. Too busy day dreaming about other girls." Her eyebrow arched at that, but she didn't pursue it.

During a little more friendly banter, I had checked to make sure there was enough gas, and the oil looked good. It was distracting because she kept adjusting her bra due to obvious discomfort. "What's it doing when you try to start it?"

"Nothing, it just doesn't start."

I squeezed the lever to engage the throttle and pulled on the cord. Nothing. Then I realized the problem. I squeezed the little primer button a few times and then tried again. After some coughs and chugs, it fired right up. She had the cutest look of astonishment on her face. "What did you do?"

"So, this little button here primes the engine (not that I knew enough about these things to explain it properly) and gets the gas flowing so it can ignite. Usually when first starting it you need to pump it 5 or six times." Now she looked a little embarrassed. Your grass is pretty high, let's get this deck adjusted or it will choke after one pass." I set the deck up a few notches, fired the mower up again and started making some passes at the lawn. She didn't have a grass catcher on the mower so there were large clumps of grass left behind in my wake.

"Hold on," and I went back across the street to grab my mower and an extra bag. In no time I had done the first pass to shorten the length of grass, with her kind of hovering around because she clearly wasn't used to people doing things for her, and then did a second pass to get everything short and neat. Her yard was much smaller than mine, so it took little time to finish the work. I noted how she'd want to do some trimming, and she made some quiet comment like "It's always good to be neatly trimmed," which I seemingly ignored in my masculine desire to explain lawn care. Her mischievous smirk, however, caught my attention, and I duly noted that the game was afoot.

"For instance, I see your bushes are overgrown by the gate, and unless they get trimmed, they can impede access," I waited for her response. None came. She was looking over at the gate and her overgrown hedge and seemed lost in thought. She started walking in that direction and turned her head.

"You must be thirsty, come back and I'll get some lemonade."

"Let me finish cleaning this stuff up," and she disappeared through the front gate while I pushed the mower into her garage and put her lawn waste bag by the garbage cans. After closing her garage door, I joined her past the gate.

It was a cozy backyard, bordered by an overgrown garden, and furnished with a chaise, some chairs, and a table on a cement patio slab. She was standing at the table upon which were two glasses with ice, which she began filling from a pitcher of lemonade. "It's not freshly squeezed, but hopefully it's tart enough for your taste."

"As an expert lemon squeezer, I find that offensive." Ugh, I smiled as I groaned inwardly. My flirting game clearly needed some work. "I'm sure it will wet my whistle and maybe you'll even get a pucker out of me." Inwardly I flinched. Stop, just stop.

She handed me a glass of lemonade. "Maybe you can show me your expert lemon squeezing technique sometime."

"It's all in the thumbs."

We sat in silence for a few moments. She took off her sneakers and I noticed her legs. Her thighs were thick and smooth, her calves toned. She wiggled her toes as they found freedom in the fresh air.

She began fidgeting again and adjusting her bra. Watching her do that made me realize I might need to do some adjusting of my own. Nothing like some fresh air and yardwork to get the body primed, and a hot neighbor essentially fondling her own tits didn't help.

"It's too fucking hot for this," she burst out unexpectedly. "I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable..." she trailed off as she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, freeing her lemons, or more accurately, grapefruits from their sweaty confines.

"Not at all," I quickly responded casually, despite my astonishment at this sudden plot twist, "I'm a huge fan of free-range citrus." She gave me a side eye and a wry smile as she tried to mop up some sweat from her underboob with her already saturated bra. I quickly stripped off my shirt intending to offer it to her, but realized it was just as wet and sweaty as her bra. I sat there with my hand outstretched and looked at her, then at the shirt, and then I laughed. What else could I do?

She was obviously comfortable enough with me, which I was grateful for, and while it seemed there was some light flirting, it was not, in my mind, an invitation for an unwanted sexual overture, like the ones beginning to spin out in my head. She thanked me for the offer, and I withdrew my hand and finished my lemonade. She arose to refill my glass, and I failed at not staring at her breasts, swaying in front of me, so close I could see little beads of perspiration beading down them to her nipples and forming drops. Fascinating.

"Tom, my eyes are up here."

Looking up, I swallowed hard and squirmed uncomfortably as she laughed and handed me the freshly filled glass. I started nervously sipping at it and realized lemonade wasn't going to cut this thirst. I kept hoping she'd say something obvious, some overt or even subtle sign of consent, an invitation. But instead, we sat in silence for several moments, sipping our lemonade, until I broke it, asking: "So, do you have you any plans for your garden Irina?" There is nothing sadder than a lonely gentleman.

She thought for a moment, and answered "The ground seems kind of dry, and I'm having problems with a hose."

"Hose?" Eager for the distraction, I jumped up. "I'm somewhat of a hose expert." I turned away from her and started for the back of the house, which was likely a good thing, because I could feel my face reddening with embarrassment. Hose expert. What the fuck was I thinking? I heard her chair scrape against the patio stone as I reached the faucet and hose. I lifted the hose and turned the faucet handle, and unsurprisingly, water started to spurt out from it. I didn't see any leaks or obvious problems and was then startled to feel a hand on my shoulder. Unthinking, I turned around and Irina placed her hand on my chest to prevent me from bumping in to her, as the hose started splattering water all over her.

"You certainly know how to get a girls garden wet." I averted the hose from her, certain I would then just die from shame. She leaned in to me and reached behind and shut off the faucet. Sliding her hand up to my shoulder she looked me in the eyes, "For the love of God, would you just fucking kiss me already?" I dropped the hose.

In the seconds it took me to murmur "I told you I was a hose expert," my hand cupped her face, and my lips found hers. Whatever uncertainty; whatever hesitation I had previously swept away on a tide of passion as my lips tugged and mashed against hers. Our tongues met in an open mouthed embrace and hungrily sparred with each other. As our lips and tongues and hands explored each other, I could feel my arousal skyrocketing just as I could hear her breathing intensify.

Despite the heat, she shivered as I tilted her head to one side and started greedily devouring her neck and working my way to her bare shoulder. She tasted of salt and desire, and gasped when my teeth bit gently down on that muscle connecting the shoulder to her neck. I tried to be gentle, almost tender, but the passion continuing to well up in me clouded my normal circumspect reason, and I could not suppress my urgent need to completely consume this hot, thick woman in my arms.

Our sweat was effusive as my hands glided over her body, sliding freely over a layer of shiny lubrication. Her skin glistened in the sun, and I closed my eyes to concentrate on her breathing and her low moans, the smoothness of her, and the musky aroma permeating the air around us, driving me deeper into a bottomless gulf of desire.

Returning my mouth to hers, I kissed her fervently, my hands stroking her hair. I could feel her breasts pressed against my chest, hot and firm. Those breasts that started this whole chain of events. With one last firm, almost violent kiss, I turned her around as my one arm encircled her waist. With the other hand I lifted her hair from her neck so I could suck and nibble at the back of it. My hand now free, I clasped one of her breasts. My hands are large, but still not quite large enough to completely grasp one of her magnificent breasts. I pressed my loins with my swollen manhood against her ass as I held her close.

"This is how you squeeze lemons," I whispered in her ear, and she giggled and shivered in reply. I pinched her nipple, after all, it really is all in the thumbs, and delighted in feeling it harden at my touch. After a few minutes of attention on her one breast, I slid my hand down to the waistband of her shorts and brought the other hand up to experience her second breast. Their firmness was unexpected, with dark, wide areolas and brown, long nipples. They were a delight to tease erect and feel with my fingers.

While I was idly fingering her nipple and tracing my hand around the underside of her breast, my other hand had, of its own volition, slid down her shorts and was now sliding past neatly trimmed hair, still pulling her against me so I could grind my hardened prick against her ass. My hand stopped at her thoroughly saturated pussy, and I could barely get a finger in due to the clingy tightness of her shorts.

"You're not very good at this are you?" She swiveled her head to give me a teasing look, as she started to push her shorts down, shimmying her ass against my cock as fabric gave way to skin. They made it as far as her knees, with her legs now together, but it was enough for my finger to gain purchase in the slick folds now exposed. The musky smell of her sex now filled me, and I ravaged the back of her neck and shoulders with my teeth and tongue. My one hand resting, unmoving on her breast as I probed her wetness with the other, finding her swelling bud and coaxing it from its sheath.

"Hopefully I'm good enough," I replied to her earlier challenge, "Unless you'd like me to stop." She let out a breathy sigh in response as my finger teased and provoked her hardening little bud, safely snuggled in folds of sticky warmth. It did not take long before she was squirming in my arms, her hips gyrating to some unknown rhythm, as her sighs turned to moans. With rapid escalation her moans became more urgent, and higher pitched, urging my finger on, to firmer and faster motions, until she finally shuddered, going momentarily limp against me and yet taut at the same time.

Her rapid breathing had been punctuated by ragged gasps for breath, and as her ardor cooled momentarily, so her breathing quieted and I withdrew my hand from her slickness, turning her around again to kiss her. She nearly lost her balance due to her shorts being around her knees, and I knelt to finish removing them, leaving them laying in a crumpled heap in the grass. The smell emanating from her snatch was intoxicating, and I briefly considered diving face first into it, when I felt her tugging me up, and then throwing her arms around me and kissing me more passionately than before. She was lost in that kiss, as was I, completely spellbound in a euphoric haze as my hands wandered down her back to her ass, and back up again to stroke her hair and cup her face. We were a tangle of limbs and lips and tongues and unquenched desire.

Then I felt the tugging at my belt. The clink of the buckle being undone, and then the snap of the top button, followed by the unmistakable sound of the zipper descending. All while she was still concentrating on our kiss. "Smooth," I murmured past her tongue, and I felt her mouth curl in a smile of satisfaction as I kicked off my gardening clogs in time for my shorts to fall with a light thud around my ankles. Finally freed, my cock stood at half mast, my balls tightening as cool air rushed over them. One touch from her slender fingers caused my erection to return in full glory, as my breath caught in my throat.

Her hands disappeared from my body and then I felt her tugging at my arms, getting me to release her from my light embrace. Her fingers twined in mine, and she stretched languorously both of our arms, and leaned her head to kiss my arm, extended past her face. I stepped in closer until the head of my cock was kissing her belly, a tiny drop of precum mingling with her sweat. "I want to fuck you," I blurted out, in a not so gentlemanly fashion, and her answer was to pull me towards the chaise.

I almost tripped trying to get my feet out of my shorts, and half stumbled along as she walked backwards to the lounger, not taking her eyes off of me. "I was hoping you'd say that," she whispered, as she plumped up one of the pillows before laying back on it, exposing her full body to me, legs spread in anticipation. "Be gentle, I'm a virgin."

Normally, I'd laugh at that, but I was too caught up in the moment, with her laying before me, her womanly curves and mesmerizing eyes, I couldn't come up with anything clever in response, so I kneeled between her legs on the chaise, and the only thing I could thing of was "Extra rough, got it." I know she was expecting me to just go for it, and she was certainly ready, but there was still one thing I wanted to do, and I leaned down and placed my mouth over one of her breasts. The salty tang hit me right away, but soon disappeared as my mouth licked and sucked all over it, nuzzling under the underside to lick along the fold.

That nipple was exactly how I imagined it would be, thick and firm, and I sucked hard on it, feeling it rolled around under gentle pressure from my teeth. She gasped, and then moaned at that, and I could feel her fingers stroking my hair in response. In time, I switched to her other breast, which elicited another gasp, and I noticed one of her hands move to the space between her legs, as her moaning intensified. Despite my raging hard on, I was content to suckle at her tits, as her fingers worked their own magic. I could feel her shifting and trembling as her moans changed to more guttural noises, and soon, she shuddered from another orgasm.

Seeing her beneath me and hearing her pleasure drove me over the edge. I quickly detached myself from her and brought my cock into position. She pulled me closer to kiss me and I tried to smoothly enter her in the same motion, but the head butted up against her labia. We laughed into the kiss, and she let out an "oops."

"At least I didn't get the wrong hole," I retorted, "But there's still hope." I was already feeling my way around and finally aligned my straining member with the welcoming slit and slid it in with a slow, steady motion. We both gasped as it entered, and I marveled at how tight she was. I wondered how long I could possibly last.

"Good job," she cooed, "you got the right hole."

"Next time you might not be so lucky."

"But you might be." I didn't really have much attention to give to that thought, as I was consumed by how good she felt now, and settled into a steady, deep and slow rhythm, as my cock plunged into and withdrew from her pussy, with measured regularity. It had been a while since I had fucked anything but a fleshlight, but I couldn't remember it feeling this good.

Meanwhile, I could feel her fingers fluttering around my balls, and occasionally she would grab them and give them a gentle tug or a squeeze, but her attention seemed to be on her clit. I looked down and watched as she rapidly flicked it and her heard her breathing increase, her now familiar moans escaping her throat while her head lolled from side to side. Her back slowly arched, jutting her breasts up to meet me and I could spare one hand from supporting myself to squeeze her breasts and gently pinch her nipples, which was apparently what she needed.

"Fuuuccckkk," she wailed, "Goddamn, I'm cumming."

"Let it out baby," I encouraged her, "Let me hear you cum." At this she let out a series of long, high pitched groans, her body completely taut as if she were electrified, and then I felt her whole body quiver as she suddenly grabbed my hips and started urging me to fuck her faster. Her mouth opened wide in a silent scream, and soon she began to relax, breathing hard and sinking back into the chaise.

I continued my steady rhythm, although I had since picked up the pace. My strokes were long and deep, and sometimes I could feel the head touch bottom. She looked at me, "Baby?" I must have looked confused. "Baby?" she repeated.

I shrugged. "You'd prefer Muffin? Or perhaps Princess?" I loved the way she could switch to casual banter, and I slowed my stroke a little and relaxed into it.

"Baby will do," she seemed resigned, "for now." Her eyes closed for a minute, and she seemed lost in her head, and then they suddenly shot open, and she leaned forward, grabbing me by the hips again. "I want you to cum in me, oh baby, please cum in me." She actually managed to use 'baby' without any trace of irony.

"See? Baby just works."

She started getting excited again, and urged me on to fuck her faster, as my ass powered my hips to drive my cock more rapidly into her soaking wet cunt. The sloppy sounds we made were like music to my ears as she slowly adjusted her position, encouraging me to lower my torso to get closer to her. Her arms pulled me down as I could sense her breathing change, and she moaned into my mouth as we kissed again. I sucked her breath from her as she moaned into my mouth, and she returned the favor as I breathed into hers. I sucked a little on her upper lip as I felt her hips shifting uncontrollably under me and realized I was rapidly approaching the end.