Linda Crawley pulled a face in her drivers mirror as she adjusted her blouse collar. Another dreary meeting at the golf club. Her husband, a senior medical practitioner, had joined a year earlier and soon after, dragged her along too to 'events'. He had joined partly to play but mostly to generate contacts and business for his lucrative and fast growing private practice. Although she did learn and played a little of the game herself she attended mainly out of loyalty to her husband; that and the rather old fashioned arrangement whereby 'lady members' were expected to prepare the monthly reception for regular competitions. Linda was a keen cook and enjoyed the social gathering of other spouses which took the edge off the boredom, but it had been a struggle for her until recent months.
Of late however the son of one, of the other members, had come to her notice. Jonathan was 19 and though young for his age, not the brightest button in the box, and a late developer, he was "easy on the eye", she had decided. She was not alone in her conclusion. Though he had been at some of the clubs events over previous year after turning 18, she had either not seen him or simply ignored him as immature. Instead, it was her friend Dorothy Chester who had brought him indirectly to her attention again after one particular occasion a few months back.
When, after calling at her home, she had discovered him there working away on Dot's garden. And she liked what she saw of this slim, tall, fit, obedient pliable and attractive youth. Not as competition for her husband but more as an amusement and perhaps inspiration for a little 'self help'. She was not sure whether Dorothy had employed him for his looks or his work ethic, but he had achieved quite a transformation in Dorothy's rear garden, if not yet as far as she knew, of her front. She suspected Dorothy was also enjoying the sight of her little helper in his shorts and shirt, heaving and sweating, but Dot was extremely circumspect in revealing any view she might have had of the lad.
Husband away on a regular teaching trip had left Linda at a loose end. While Jonathan's presence at meetings of the club had now been a draw for Linda, he had not been around for a few weeks. She had now learned that this absence followed a short stay and operation in hospital and secretly wondered if Dorothy had been working him too hard either in the garden or in the bedroom. It turned out, it was neither. The boy had instead unfortunately had a minor cycling accident whilst traveling home from her house. She had only just learnt this from the club secretary Veronica, otherwise Linda would have happily popped down to the hospital to see how he was and to catch a glimpse of his fine form in pyjamas or even a hospital gown. By the time she knew of it, he was out.
And so it was to her surprise that as she emerged from her large and expensive 4 x 4, one that would never leave the high street let alone the road and enter a field, she noticed a cyclist approaching the club buildings down the long driveway. He was moving fast, still pedaling down the slight hill, towards the car park where Linda was now standing. It was the unmistakable form of the lovely lithe lad himself.
She straightened her dark blue creased drill cotton jacket over a wide equally dark blue drill cotton pleated skirt bare legs and flat shoes. Linda was no natural beauty or trend setter, but she enjoyed the crumpled cool look for these late summer months and little or no makeup. She was short and a little heavy 'in all the right places' according to her husband, dark haired in all the right places and a few wrong ones too, large breasted and wide bottomed. 'Built for comfort if not for speed' was another expression he favoured. However she had an attractive face, a ready wit and a cheeky grin, and the ability to tell a dirty joke or two. which she knew, from her younger days, was a draw to many a fine male. The respectable Dorothy for all her longings for some fun with Jonathan, would, if pressed, have described Linda as a little vulgar a little down market who had been lucky enough to catch herself a wealthy doctor husband.
She waited by her car and pretended to search one of her bags for something. She was parked rather near to the short bike rack and knew he would aim for that. She made as if not to notice him as he approached, still at speed, on his bike. She heard and looked up as if surprised. He was just as tasty as she remembered watching him from the kitchen, while he was working over Dorothy's garden a few months back.
"Oh hello". She said acting surprised.
"Hi..." he grunted shyly as he came to an abrupt stop, the tyres of his bike sending loose gravel flying as he slammed on his breaks at the last minute.
"Steady, you were going very fast." Linda looked at his bike and then at him as he dismounted. He lifted and swung his smooth bared leg over the saddle and stepped three paces to the rack.
He was dressed in a black hoodie, black shorts with white piping and long black socks which had slid down to his long legs to the ankles, above his black running shoes. His floppy dark blond hair was over his eyes and he hauled it back with his hand, from over his smooth, fresh if a little ruddy cheeked, face. She was disappointed he was not in body hugging lycra, just some rather baggy shorts, but his thighs were just as smooth and toned as her last glimpse, only now she noticed some scarring just below his left knee.
"I was sorry to hear about your accident."
"Oh, er yeah, came off on my way back from work a few weeks back now."
"Are you OK?" asked Linda hoping he would point to a few battle scars.
She was not disappointed.
"Er,... yes my leg, thought I had broken it, but it was the ligaments, strained or something when I came off. They had to do a small operation and I was in overnight." He glanced and then pointed downwards.
Mention of the operation and the hospital stay reminded him of the trick someone had played on him there. It must have been one of the nurses, the fat cheeky one most likely. He realized she had been keen to get him out of his clothes and he was quite resistant in showing anything. She must have applied the tourniquet to him when he was recovering from the anesthetic of his operation. He remembered how painful his first erection had been when he got home two days later. He had peeled back the foreskin and discovered the dental floss tied around it, buried under the crease of his frenum. To reduce the pressure even a little it was all he could do to make himself 'go down', thinking of all the most boring things possible so as to reduce the 'bite' of the cord into his manhood. Eventually somewhat deflated, he was able to get nail scissors just inside the cordon and to his considerable relief cut it. He had been so sore for a week afterwards that he couldn't pleasure himself without a lot of discomfort, but after two weeks, he soon made up for his enforced restraint. It was a cruel joke to play, as was the theft by someone, of Mrs Chesters watch which he must have had with him at the time too.
Linda needed no encouragement to admire the boys legs so she moved forward and bent a little. She reached out a small hand and gently touched him where there was some slight scarring.
"Do you mind?" she asked a little late.
"Er... no that's OK... but its nothing really."
"Oh I bet that was painful." Linda said pulling a face of pain and sympathy.
Although his skin was a little marked still it was mostly very much untouched and offered a delightfully smooth texture to her touch. She brushed his leg with the back of her hand and the reversing her approach she slid her fingers and then her palm slowly down his calf and then back up a little beyond his knee as high as she dare. Apart from a light downy covering, his exposed lower thigh was almost hairless and covered in a thin veneer of sweat. His flesh felt, soft, warm and tender. She had to make a conscious effort not to keep rubbing and nor to move her hand higher until she reached the lads crotch.
Jonathan found her motherly familiarity and concern a little strange, surprising and awkward but somewhere else he also felt a little stirring that he could not quite identify. Her ministrations were warm and comforting.
It would have been so easy for Linda to have moved her hand up further to the tops of his toned thighs and onto or preferably for her, up into, his shorts. Though the cloth was not tight making it hard for her to see if he was at all aroused as lycra would have, these shorts did have the advantage of being loose and therefore accessible to a wandering hand. And Linda would have been delighted for hers to slide slowly under the white piping of his shorts up to his, most likely, piping hot groin.
Resisting temptation at this time anyway, she removed her hand and glanced up at the boys face. Handsome but innocent and as she now noticed, dripping with sweat.
"Wow, you look hot". She said.
There was a slight embarrassed silence as the words double meaning was registered.
Oops the words had come out without her thinking. She smiled slightly.
Jonathan looked a little surprised and gasped.
At first she thought his sharp breathing was a reaction to what she had just said but then she realized he was simply drawing breath after pounding the pedals. As if to avoid talking about what she had just said, he stooped slightly then bent over letting his hands touch his running shoes. He most likely didn't realize quite what he was doing as in so bending he presented his small pert bottom in Linda's direction. The shorts, though baggy, bunched up neatly around his buns, the central seam sliding forcefully into his cleft. They looked incredibly smackable to Linda but she knew she had to resist their siren call.
"I'm not sure that came out right" she added sniggering, while he was bent over but she knew it had. Then she also realized that the boy was also trying to reduce his embarrassment by bending over and away whilst taking a few deep breaths from his exertions. She paused and then trying to ease the situation said:
"I mean you are dripping with sweat."
He gasped for a second time from the efforts as Linda glanced down again at his delicious bottom.
"Gosh", she thought and let out a very quiet low moan of her own as she thought of all the places on his yummy body that his sweat was trickling from, and to.
He straightened and turned a little.
"Oh...yeah I was trying for a personal best." He explained.
"I'm just a bit winded from all the effort". He breathed heavily and she watched his chest heave as he sucked in air.
"Going as fast as I could all the way pretty much" he said quickly pulling a face.
"And did you make it?" asked Linda letting her eyes wander down to his bared thighs once more.
"Er... no not quite." He added.
