Mrs Adleson Pt 01

She was Mrs. Adleson to me then, hell, I guess she still is. I think she goes by Margery to her friends. I've thought she was hot since I was a kid (I'm in my late 20's now). She's probably in her mid to late forties now but still very attractive. I don't know how many times I've fantasized about her over the years but I've never let on. I've always been polite and courteous to her and I'm sure she will always think of me as that sweet little boy who used to drink lemonade with her and her husband on the porch after mowing their yard once a week every summer so long ago.

When I worked in the grocery store as a teenager she would come in. I would follow her to the milk aisle because the cold air from the cooler would make her nipples hard, poking through her blouse.

I get excited even now just watching her work her flower garden from across the street at my parents house, bending over to pull weeds, inviting my eyes to dance along her beautiful cleavage. She notices me and waves, I wave back with a smile. If she only knew. She would be so disappointed with me.

I visit my parents once a week and always check to see if Mrs. Adleson is outside which she usually is. The times she's not, my visits are longer because I linger hoping she'll venture out.

The reason for visiting today is my dad needs help getting rid of an old stump in the back yard. We waited until late so it wouldn't be so hot but it's still a sauna out here. Halfway through the job we decide to call it a night to finish up tomorrow.

I go to the front porch to cool off. Sitting there in another world.

"Are you thirsty?" It's Mrs. Adleson in one of her classic flowery dresses that go to the knees showing her calves.

"Thank you Mrs Adleson. Quite thirsty."

"It's really sweet of you to help your parents out the way you do. You're a good son."

"Thanks. That's sweet of you to say." She wouldn't think I was so sweet if she knew I was checking her curves out in that tight-fitting dress. I feel under-dressed. She always dresses so nice, even to do yard work. I'm sitting here wearing a tank top, a sweaty pair of shorts, and tennis shoes.

I notice a bra strap barely peeking through the shoulder of her dress. I think it's black. Jesus, I never would have dreamed she would wear a black bra. I look further down and I can see a nipple trying to pierce the fabric of her dress.

I don't know how long I stared at it before coming to reality and realizing we haven't said anything in over a minute. I look up. She has a shocked look on her face, eyes huge, and mouth open as if trying to say something but not being able to. I thought she caught me staring at her tits until I follow her gaze. She's looking at my crotch. I look down. Holy shit! My dick had somehow worked its way out of one of the legs of my shorts and is now bobbing in the air as hard as a rock for the whole world to see. Staring at it for a moment in disbelief I look up at Mrs. Adleson with the same expression on her face.

She drops her glass, shattering on the steps. "I've got to go."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know..." trying to work it back in my shorts.

"It's okay. Just nature I guess. I've really got to go!"

Oh my gawd. Mrs. Adleson has seen my stuff. What a nightmare. Shit, I hope she doesn't tell my parents. It would kill them.

She's running back to her house. She must think I'm a perv. Going inside without a glance back she slams the door. I wonder if Mr. Adleson will emerge to have a talk with me or maybe even to whip my ass?

Waiting for thirty or so minutes nobody emerges from their house. I can't take it anymore and head to her front door. Knocking, I get no reply, no answer. I finally give up with the weight of the situation on my shoulders feeling heavy enough to crush me.

~~~~~

I walk across the street into my parents yard. It's almost dark now. The crickets are chirping happily, no clue of what I just did to the neighbor. I get in my car and put the key in the ignition without turning it. Sitting frozen for a moment, I pull the key back out. I better say bye to my parents or they will get worried. Heading up the steps to the front door, I turn around and head back to Mrs. Adlesons.

Fuck it. I wont be able to sleep tonight. I've got to make her understand this was an accident. That I'm not a pervert. I get to her front door and just as my hand is hovering in the knock position I hear a muffled argument inside. She must have told Mr. Adleson and they are disagreeing on what to do about it.

Instead of knocking I decide to check things out before proceeding. Walking very lithely, I creep to each window flanking the door. I can see through the crack in the curtains in one of the windows. Mr. Adleson sits in his recliner, watching TV, eating popcorn, the only light coming from the television giving him a faint blue glow and strobe effect while he eats. The arguing I heard earlier must have been the television. Not a care in the world from the looks of it. She must not have told him. My curiosity is killing me now. What is she doing?

Checking each window until I see her in the one behind the house. This is the kitchen. I've peeked in these windows many times growing up hoping to catch her in the middle of changing clothes. She's chopping cucumbers on a wooden panel by the sink, very slowly and carefully with a worried look on her face.

I stop watching and rest my back on the wall by the window, sliding down to the ground. I don't know what to do. She won't answer the door. I can't leave just yet. I have to make sure she's okay.

The sounds of the crickets and frogs usually bring me peace, but tonight it seems like they are mocking me.

I can't sit here all night. I stand back up scraping my back on the window seal. At the moment I look back in, Mrs. Adelson cuts her thumb with the knife, jerking and dropping the knife in the sink, she places it in her mouth, saying something angrily under her breath. I've never seen her mad before. Hell, I've never seen her in any other mood but happy for that matter.

She checks the cut on her thumb already bleeding again and turns the faucet to clean it. Her hand hits a large pot, knocking it over into the sink, splashing soapy water all over her. Angry to the point of tears she removes the wet hair from her face cursing some more. Looking down at her drenched dress clinging to her body she stomps her foot and starts unbuttoning it in the back.

I can't believe this. I've been fantasizing about this since I was a kid, and here she is stripping in front of me unknowingly. Just moments ago I felt like I was in hell, now I'm in Heaven.

Loosening the top of her dress completely in the back, she slides the front down her arms until it's dangling from her waist, exposing large, full, breast, covered only by a thin black bra. It's so tight, that her skin pooches over the edges. Her skin glistens from the soapy water that worked it's way through the fabric.

Sticking her thumbs under the cloth on each side of her waist she works her dress down and over her hips with some trouble. I never noticed how tight her dresses really were, I mean I knew they were snug, but she really has to work to simply get it off.

Once past her waist it falls to the floor with ease. My view now is remarkable. Standing in front of the sink in her black bra and panties. Her milky skin a big contrast to the black fabric.

I hear thunder in the distance. She doesn't seem to hear it. Her left hand on her left hip, the other rubbing her slippery belly, apparently contemplating what to do next.

Grabbing a small towel from beside the sink, she dries her face, then her chest and stomach. She stops, sets the towel back on the counter, puts her thumbs under the straps on the sides of her panties and pushes them down her legs. I can see her pussy, I'll be damned if it's not shaved bare, but it is. She shaves her pussy, bald.

Standing up straight she reaches behind her and unclasps her bra and pulls it off like she did the dress. Her beautiful plump breast look relieved, like they can breath again. The indention of the bra leaving red marks in her skin. As soon as the air makes contact, her nipples grow hard. She is a thing of beauty, just like I knew she would be.

Grabbing the towel again she goes back to the task of drying off. Her tits jiggle with each movement, and bounce when she wipes them. Dabbing her muff, she moves down each leg until she's dry.

Pushing down on the top of the bottle by the faucet she squeezes a small blob of lotion into her palm which she rubs up and down her arms. She squeezes another and this time messages it onto her legs. She rubs another onto her tits, making them nice and shiny. She starts at the base and squeezes them all the way until finishes with her nipples in a pinching motion, then repeats several times.

Rubbing some more onto her belly in circular motions, she moves back and forth between her breast and her crotch until she focus' on her crotch. Messaging under and over her pussy until she brushes her clit. With almost a look of guilt she scans the kitchen for Mr. Adelson, which I figure is asleep on the recliner by now (by god. I hope he is, I would hate for him to walk in and ruin this.) Biting her bottom lip, she touches her clit again and shudders. Flicking it the next time, she exhales, and begins rubbing it.

My luck is usually terrible, but today it is incredible. I can't believe I'm witnessing this. The fantasy of my childhood being realized at this very moment.

Finally, more comfortable with the situation, she rubs harder and begins pinching her nipple with the other hand, working her clit faster.

Breathing harder, her eyebrows furrowed as she removes her hand from her breast and places it under the other, slipping one finger inside her wet pussy. It's really wet, I can see her finger glistening in the light each time she pulls it out.

She's so beautiful and hot. I never knew what she saw in Mr. Adleson. Very average, bald spot, overbite, with a little build and sleight gut, but she has always seemed happy around him, happy and cheerful. That's the luck isn't it. Some guys have it all and for no reason.

Instead of rubbing her clit, she uses those fingers to spread herself open still pumping her pussy with the other, now with two fingers. Man, she's working it now, I wish I could hear her. I bet I could even hear her pussy, it's so wet. I see a long string of her wetness hanging down from her middle finger about a foot or so before it breaks and drops to the floor. Damn, this is hot.

I realize I have a massive hard on. Well of course I do. It's already trying to free itself from my shorts again. Come to think of it, that's what started all this, at least I think it is. She's either masturbating because my exposed cock turned her on, or she's doing it because it's how she deals with stress. I hope it was the first one. But either way it all started with my dick escaping my shorts.

The storm builds in intensity. The sounds of the crickets and frogs is replaced by wind and distant thunder. Now, I can very faintly hear Mrs. Adleson, moaning through the glass. Pumping her hips back and forth as her fingers move in and out of her wet pussy. Spreading her legs as far as she can standing up, she gives up and sits on the floor, pulling one leg up straight until her knee is by her face, still working her pussy with her other hand.

She's really getting worked up. Lifting her pelvis a couple of feet off the floor, then back again. She looks around frantically, reaching up for the countertop, fumbling around not being able to see what she's grabbing. Picking up a spoon, she looks at the handle, then throws it aside. Reaching up again and finding nothing. Frustrated she pulls her other hand out of her pussy and gets up on her knees, looking over the counter. With nothing else the right size she grabs the lotion bottle, placing it in her mouth, then returning to her original position on the floor. Coating the rounded part of the bottle with spit, she inserts it slowly into her cunt. Getting it about halfway in she grows impatient and pushes it the rest of the way.

Bucking around on the floor, pumping that bottle in and out of her, she looks wild. Reaching up to the sink again, grabbing another pot from the sink, it's entire contents of soapy water all over her. She grabs the dish soap off the floor and squeezes it onto her, with her free hand rubbing it all over her tits, stomach, hair, face, pussy, everywhere, while still fucking herself frantically with her other hand.

She's really going crazy now. She wants to cum so bad. It's been awhile, I bet. She's getting really loud now. I don't see how her husband doesn't wake up. I peek through the other window, nope, still asleep. Wow, heavy sleeper doesn't know what he's missing. Thank gawd.

When I look back in her window, she has a new expression on her face. I know that look. She's about to cum. She's rubbing her clit with one hand and pumping her pussy with the bottle. Her rhythm has changed from before.

Stopping, she places both feet up on the counter raising her ass up to the cabinet handle. All that's touching the floor now is her shoulders, back of her neck and head. She's upside down, pussy aimed to the ceiling. What the hell is she doing? She inserts the bottle back inside her, pushing it all the way in and back out really fast. Her gorgeous soapy tits are bouncing off her face now, her dark wet hair spread all over the kitchen. Damn, she's hot. So sexy.

Looking down, I didn't realize but I already have my dick out and stroking it from tip to base. I'm about to cum too.

Working the bottle at a furious pace milky liquid seeps from her pussy dripping down her stomach and breast. With one last push she shoves it in as far as she can then pulls it out. Arching her back, her pelvis upward so that the fountain of white liquid hits her in the face and tits. Holy Shit!!

Her lust for herself puts me over the edge. I can't contain myself. My cock is throbbing. I erupt, spraying the screen and window.

By now it's started raining. I don't care if I get soaked. I can't get enough of this. Four more burst shoot from her pussy, each one hitting her in the face, tits, and stomach as she pumps the air with her pelvis with each squirt. It's even in her hair. When she's finished cumming she pulls her feet off the counter, sliding down completely to the floor, rubbing the liquid into her skin from pussy to face, licking from her hands and pinching her nipples. Her breathing begins to slow as her thrashing becomes a gentle squirm. Putting two fingers deep into her cunt, she slides them out and places them in her mouth where she sucks them clean until she appears to fall asleep with them still in her mouth.

I almost wonder if she is okay, but I can faintly see her rising up and down as she breaths. I watch her for along time before I realize my whole body is pressed against the window with my shorts down to my ankles. If someone happened to notice me through the rain from the road they would think I'm a perv which I very well am I suppose. I quickly pull them back up cum still dripping from my bobbing dick. Shoving it into my shorts I take a quick look around...the neighborhood seems almost deserted except for the occasional light from a distant house.

When I look back in the window, she's gone. All that's left is the soapy water and her cum on the floor. Fuck, I hope she didn't see me in the window. It's pretty dark out here but the lightning could have given me away. I better get out of here. Horny and worried at the same time I run back to my parents house. No time to tell them goodbye. I jump in my car, start it up, and haul ass.

Not remembering the drive back home I sit in my driveway thinking about the past couple of hours, so surreal. The fear of being seen by Mrs Aldleson or anybody for that matter is diminishing with with each passing moment, would've heard something by now I'm pretty sure. My cell remains quite. Turning the keys, the car grows still and silent. The rain has slowed but remains steady.

to be continued...