Author's Foreword: I have a thing for big-titted blonde MILF bimbos, so I just started writing this as a simple stroker story. Then I realized I couldn't get all the fun stuff I had in my head in this one scene, so it's now become my first attempt at an open-ended setup story to allow for unlimited future episodes. The next three parts are already plotted out, but I'd love to hear your ideas or desires on where this should go. Let me know by comment or DM if you have an idea, situation, or fantasy to explore in a future episode.
I realize, too, that this story hasn't allowed for much depth of character, but future stories will show more of who these two are and what motivates them. As much as I try to leave all this emotional shit out, I just can't help it. But I will say right now, that the focus is on fucking and fantasies and all the stuff you're here on Literotica for -- make no mistake about that!
If you like this one, be sure to favorite me, so you'll get a notification when the next part is published. As usual, I request your feedback and general remarks -- good or bad -- in the comments section.
Jalgis once again gets my thanks for another excellent job of editing -- lots of effort went into shaping, suggesting, and correcting to get this ready for publishing.
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Damn.
After what was probably my thirtieth yank on the pull starter, I finally gave up on the likelihood that my old, worn-out two-stroke lawn mower was going to turn over without additional help. This old junker had been getting harder and harder to start over the last few weeks, but it looked like it was time to pull it back into the garage for some troubleshooting.
With practiced ease, I cleaned the air filter and replaced the spark plug. When this didn't get the mower working, I checked the functions of the carburetor and ignition coil. After an hour and a half, I wasn't any closer to getting it to run and I just lost my shit.
Fuck it! I'm not going to do another thing to keep this hunk of shit running.
I knew that it might just need a new set of rings but I'd already wasted hundreds of hours to keep this mower working and I resolved then and there that I wasn't going to waste any more time patching this thing up.
I wheeled it to the curb and left it there to rot for the two days until the garbage truck came.
With most of the morning gone, I went inside and grabbed a bottle of water before sitting down at the computer. I pulled up Facebook Marketplace and searched for a nice mower. If I was going to buy something new, I was going to get something that would make my weekly yard work faster and easier.
I searched for "honda self-propelled mower" as a first try because I have always liked their engines. I searched for the lowest price and saw the picture of a brand new mower with a 21" deck for $50. The description said, "Brand New, Never Used" and looked to be close enough that I could get it quickly if it was still available. It certainly seemed too good to be true. I messaged "Nikki Davenport" to see if it was still available.
I went back to the search results to find another option in the likely event that this one wasn't going to work out. I checked a few more of the cheaper options but they looked as ratty as my ex-lawn mowing implement. The rest were all in the $300 range so I was about to pull up the Home Depot page and just go get a new one when I heard the ding of response.
Her: "Yes, it's available."
Her: "I just listed it about 10 minutes ago and already have a dozen responses."
Her: "But you were first so it's yours if you can come in the next 30 minutes."
Me: "I definitely want it. My old mower just died."
Me: "Would love to get it now, so I can still get the yard done this afternoon."
After a long pause, I saw the "..." of her typing. I waited, half-expecting a change of heart.
Her: "9802 Forest Meadow Lane"
Her: "Get here as soon as you can because I have something I want to do this afternoon, too."
Her: "I'm out by the pool. Just park in the driveway and come around the side when you get here."
I responded immediately.
Me: "Ok, I'm on my way now."
Before I got up to leave, I checked her profile so I'd know how to recognize her.
DAMN!
She was super hot. She was mid-forties or so with straight platinum blonde hair, a broad and inviting smile with perfect teeth, a lean and tanned runner's body, and a huge and gravity-defying rack that a few dozen bikini pics documented extensively. And...divorced. I re-read the message string. For a split second, my mind read this as her on the prowl and then, just as quickly, I dismissed it as wishful thinking on my part.
I grabbed a CLIF bar on the way out as my lunch so I could get this mower before it was gone.
The way over, though, I kept thinking about those photos of her. One image was burned into my memory: her taut body barely covered by tiny triangles of pink fabric. How I wished to see her in that when I arrived. What I realized to be far more likely when I got there was a woman ten years older, eighty pounds heavier, and wearing a muumuu. That helped center my thoughts and allowed me to relax for the remainder of the short drive.
When I arrived at her house, I backed my truck into her driveway and stopped a few feet away from the closed garage door to make loading up the mower easier. I followed a footpath from the driveway along the side of the house to the back. As I approached a black wrought iron fence, I could hear the bubbling of a pool nearby. Lush landscaping was visible on the other side.
"Nikki?" I called as I reached for the fence. "This is Ethan from Facebook." I peeked over the fence and could see enough of the top of her head to know she was back there.
"That was quick. Come on in and let me get a look at you."
She rose from her outdoor chaise lounge as I stepped around the gate and onto the pool deck. My cock stirred immediately, and the first thought that registered as I saw her in the flesh was this was a pure blonde bimbo fucktoy. Once on her feet, she began a slow hip-swaying saunter toward me, sizing me up from face to feet and back to face, pausing briefly at my chest and crotch.
If I knew anything at this moment, it was that I was here to service her. And the way she looked, I was going to be a willing and ready participant.
She was dressed in a skimpy blue two-piece that rode high on her slender but still curvy hips and only barely hid her huge pair of gravity-defying tits. They were clearly man-made because the rest of her body didn't contain enough body fat to explain those enormous globes, but the work looked perfectly sculpted to her otherwise. They jutted both forward from her frame and curved outward to partially obscure her toned arms.
Her skin was taut and tanned. Her belly was flat and her calves, fully defined and shapely. The latter likely being due to the four-inch blue heels she was in that probably brought her to about 5'10". As I stopped a foot away from her, I still towered over her since I stood 6'5" or so in the running shoes I was in. She had a model's face: smooth skin, high cheekbones, and a broad and full-lipped smile. Only the faintest trace of makeup was visible. She was mommy age but had the body and unblemished skin of a thirty-year-old. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of light blue and her hair, platinum blonde, pulled tight behind her head and clipped in a messy bunch. In my head, I couldn't help but hear the man singing that this woman was "trouble with a capital 'T' and that rhymes with 'P' and that stands for 'Pool!'"
"My. You're a big one, aren't you?" She said to my crotch as she trailed a well-manicured fingertip over my t-shirt-clad chest muscles. My thin pair of running shorts did little to hide all traces of my stiffening cock.
I have been with a lot of women of all shapes and sizes and all around the world. Because of this, I don't react to women without direct stimulation to my cock, so it's important to understand how insanely hot this woman was and how much sexual energy and desire she was radiating. Here I was, stiffening more by the second, with both of us fully (or almost fully) clothed and her using only a fingernail on my chest.
I knew by this time that we'd end up smashing. What I didn't know was whether I'd be able to cut my grass today. I figured that this was a great time to find out.
I cleared my throat and focused on my words in an effort to will my cock to relax, "Thanks. I try to eat right." She focused back on my face and a ghost of a smile appeared. My cock twitched again at the realization that she took my words as a double entendre though that certainly hadn't been my intent.
I continued, "Can I see the mower?"
Her face darkened immediately. Probably rarely heard "No" from anybody, this one.
"Sure. Come on." She turned and started towards a door into her house. She made no effort to cover up, so I made no effort to avoid staring at her well-toned ass as it swayed tantalizingly with each step she took. It was muscular, firm, and well-rounded with a meaty and especially curvy bottom part. I was looking forward to taking a bite out of it.