Edited 05/09/2020
I just fixed some things people pointed out to me. English is my second language, so, even though I can write something that resembles a lot of English language, I'm in a need for an editor.
Simon
Simon Kelly,
I'd told myself as I looked myself in the mirror,
you have two weeks to get rid of your virginity. You are nineteen, and in two weeks, you'll be in boot camp.
You must get rid of your virginity before that. I tried to make it sound like I was confident I could do it in two weeks, but the truth was that the guy I saw in the mirror wasn't the hunk girls wanted.
At five feet six inches, I was short, which was a significant handicap when trying to pick up girls. Though I wasn't fat or skinny, I wasn't an Adonis either. We long-distance runners rarely are. We're the poster boys of sinewy. My body was smooth, what little body hairs I had were all gathered between my legs. I had a vast blond bush covering most of my dick. That bush made my dick seem pitiful.
I knew that my erect cock was a bit above average. Not much, but it still was slightly longer and quite a bit thicker than average, if you believed the internet. But that had not meant much in the locker room. My flaccid dick was much smaller than the other boys' dicks, and they always mocked me about it.
I'd loved to be a shower instead of being a grower.
That'd made High School much less humiliating.
I scratched the back of my neck and decided to trim my pubic hairs, maybe that would make my dick look bigger. Just when I was about to go back to the bathroom, I glanced out of the window and what I saw made my dick twitch. From my room, I had a straight view of the next-door neighbor's backyard. Even though it was ten am, our neighbor, Mrs. Bailey, was already lying on the sunbed, dressed only into a flimsy excuse of a bikini.
Mrs. Bailey was a shockingly beautiful blond with a heart-shaped face and a perfect nose and full, ruby-like lips and deep blue eyes. Despite being in her mid-thirties, she had the voluptuous and fit body of a woman much younger. Her breasts were big and round and juicy. They were so perfect that I'd heard my mother telling dad that they had to be fake.
I didn't care if they were fake or not, Mrs. Bailey and her long legs and round ass and big tits made nightly visits in my bedroom -- at least, in my fantasy world. As she moved on the sunbed, those magnificent tits jiggled. I wrapped my fingers around my rock-hard erection and stroked my cock, watching her spread her legs as if inviting a man between them. I took it as an invitation; as my hand moved back and forth on my shaft, I imagined myself between her legs.
I rammed my cock into her hot pussy. In and out, in and out... Suddenly my cock erupted and shot my hot cum straight on the floor. "Shit," I muttered as I leaned down and picked a dirty sock from the floor. I wiped my hand and dick, and then I glanced out of the window. I felt the heat forming on my cheeks when I found my eyes locked with Mrs. Bailey's blue eyes. For a moment, we looked at each other, then the corners of her lips curled up to a knowing smirk, and she waved at me.
Stupidly, I waved back at her, still having the dirty sock on my hand. My blush got deeper, and I quickly got out of the window. I cleaned the mess I had made, and then I took a shower. I had just dressed when my mother screamed my name.
"What is it?" Cried back.
"Come down! Now!" Mom yelled.
I sighed; usually, I tried not to meet mom during the mornings when she was grumpy. She often had jobs for me, and I had only two weeks' vacation before I'd go to the army, and I wanted to enjoy every minute of them. When I got downstairs, I found my mother talking with Mrs. Bailey, who now was dressed in red, low cut sundress clinging to her upper half.
"Simon, Diana needs man's help on her home," mom said, "you're free, so you can go and help her."
I blinked in confusion, wondering what was happening. Mom hated Mrs. Bailey; she had tolerated her when Mr. Bailey had been alive, but after he had died, mom had made sure we had nothing to do with her. I guess it is because mom's forty-six and looks every bit of her age, and she doesn't want dad being around a hottie like Mrs. Bailey.
"Simon?" Mom said.
"Huh?" I asked.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Uh, yeah," I said, running my hand through my hair, still baffled why mom would want me to help Mrs. Bailey. "I heard you. Mrs. Bailey needs help, and you volunteered me."
"Good, at least your ears work," mom said, and then she turned to Mrs. Bailey. "Diana, I'll send him to you after breakfast."
Mrs. Bailey smiled at me. "Oh, breakfast is the least I can offer for his help."
"That's good to hear," Mom said, and then she told me to go with Mrs. Robinson.
I followed Mrs. Robinson to her home, where she told me to go and sit on the patio. I needed to wait less than five minutes before she came back carrying a tray. She placed it on the table, sat opposite me, and asked, "Do you drink coffee?"
"Yeah," I said, trying not to stare at her boobs. From close up, they were even bigger than I had thought. Her slowly swaying breasts could only be described as enormous.
Mrs. Bailey gave me a cup of coffee. As I started to eat, she leaned on the table, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. Her dress yawned open, showing a near indecent amount of her round and smooth breasts and the deep canyon between them. When I saw the outline of her nipples was visible through the material of her dress, I realized she wasn't wearing a bra. I felt my cock swell up hard as I snapped my gaze back to her eyes.
There was a mischievous gleam on them as she said, "Do you see something you like?"
"Oh, yes!" I squealed and then blushed. "Sorry."
"Don't be," she said. "I'm flattered that a young stud like you is interested in old hag like me."
"You're a gorgeous MILF!" I declared and again blushed when I realized what I had said. "Sorry."
Mrs. Bailey giggled. "Thank you, stud," she said. "Do you mind if I smoke while you're eating?"
"No," I said.
"This is a filthy habit, I know, but I haven't been able to stop." Mrs. Bailey said, slowly running her tongue over her lips before lighting up her cigarette. I don't really mind smokers, and she made smoking look elegant and sexy.
After I had eaten breakfast, she and I went to the basement. I had to admit it was a mess, looked more like a scrapyard than a basement. Apparently, Mr. Bailey had been a bit of a hoarder. The basement wasn't air-conditioned, and it was hot as hell, and soon I was soaked in sweat. Three hours later, when Mrs. Bailey told me she'd go and make lunch for us, we'd managed to clear less than a third of the basement. I snorted; I'd been working so hard that I had not had a sexual thought in hours.
That had to be some sort of record for a nineteen-year-old boy.
*****
Mrs. Bailey
When I went down to the basement to tell Simon lunch was ready, for a moment, I just stood at the bottom of the stairs admiring him as he worked. The boy was beautiful and sexy. He had woken my body from a long hibernation into which it had fallen after my husband's death. It had been two years and eight months since I'd had sex, and I'd been mourning so hard that I had not even missed having sex.
I couldn't even remember when was the last time I had masturbated. I suspected it had been around the time when Kevin's cancer had become so bad we couldn't have sex anymore. As his body had withered with it had gone my sexual needs. It was as if my body had fallen asleep after Kevin's death.
But now, my body was wide awake again.
And my mind was trying to tell me it was wrong to lust over a boy who was less than half of my forty-two years. That the idea of a forty-something woman dating a nineteen-year-old boy was disgusting. Then I reminded myself of the fact that I'd been nineteen and my late husband thirty-three when we had met. And almost no one had believed our fourteen-year age gap to be disgusting. If it was acceptable for a man to date a younger woman, why couldn't I date a younger man?
Besides, Simon's mother had proudly told me that he had joined the army. If he was old enough to die for the country, then he was old enough to plow my drooling vagina with his hard cock.
As I looked at shirtless Simon working, his shoulders, his arms, clenching and rippling, my pulse quickened, and I felt the raw lust stirring deep within me. The sweat that glistened on the young man's body accented his honed body, and made me think other ways to make him sweat...
"Simon," I said, shaking the lustful thoughts out of my mind. "The lunch is served at the patio. Please, come before it gets cold."
I almost whimpered when he turned around, Simon had the body of a gymnast. His muscles were cut to perfection. My gaze fell to his crotch, and I swallowed when I saw the bulge forming there; he obviously wanted me.
I quickly snapped my eyes up to his face. It didn't really help; he gave me a boyish smile that made my body ache for him, and it took every bit of restraint I possessed not to jump his bones.
I turned around and walked out of the basement, my mind full of dirty images of Simon between my legs, ramming his cock into me like a jackhammer. As I got to the patio, I felt my pussy getting slick and ready. When I sat down at the table, I glanced at his crotch. The bulge in there was quite sizable. At that moment, I decided I would not let Simon out of my home before I'd gotten his cock in me.