This "First Time" story also has a voyeur theme and involves a natural woman.
***
"Oh Randy," my Mom chirped as I neared the front door, apparently seeing me trying to escape so I could go down to the park to see if anybody was hanging out. "Did you notice we have a new neighbor?"
"I saw a moving truck the other day," I admitted, and while I was hoping there would be a girl my age moving her with her folks, the little cottage was probably barely big enough for one person.
"Well what I would like you to do is bring these cookies over," Mom instructed as she handed me a small Tupperware container with some of the cookies she baked inside. "Introduce yourself."
"Ma..."
"Actually I don't think an introduction will be needed because you know the lady," Mom explained. "Quite well I think, and when we chatted earlier she certainly remembers you. Spoke very highly of you too, and you know how proud that makes me. You were one of her best customers."
"Huh?"
"Mrs. Ryan. Your school librarian?" Mom said.
"Her? Why did she move into that little dump?"
"it's not a dump. It's a cute little place, but after her husband passed away the house she had was too much for her."
"She retired?" I asked. "I thought she would die in our library."
"They offered early retirement with perks so since she's 55 she decided to retire.'
"55? I thought she was way older than that."
"Well don't go telling her that."
"I won't," I answered with a shake of my head. "What kind of an idiot do you think I am?" Besides, I really liked her."
"So go over and say hi, and it would be really nice if you offered to mow the lawn for her," Mom suggested. "She asked if anybody in the neighborhood did yard work and I mentioned that maybe you would like to, at least this summer until college."
"You volunteered me? Why do you always do stuff like that?" I groaned as I left.
"Because working a couple of nights a week at the store isn't going to pay for many books come fall is why, and she doesn't have any family around to speak of so I'm sure she's lonely and would like some company. Plus, if you want to get to heaven..." Mom said as she always did at times like this, so instead of arguing I just went out the back door.
Mrs. Ryan must have been the librarian since the school was built, and since I liked to read I ended up spending a lot of time in the school library, probably reading half of the books in the place. Another reason for hanging out there was that it was the last place the bullies who took an interest in me would go. She was very strict and acted like the books were hers, but because I was polite and an avid reader she took a liking to me, and I sort of looked at her like a grandmother.
Mrs. Ryan played the part of the old spinster librarian, dressing like someone from the last century. Every dress she wore was so long you could only see her ankles and had long sleeves and high necks so the only skin she showed was her face, neck and hands. Mrs. Ryan was kinda tall, although when you're 5'6" most people seemed that way, and although the dresses were so baggy I could never check out her body like I did all females she sure seemed to be skinny, and she wore her reddish brown hair in a bun to make her look even more strict.
When I got over to her back door and knocked I didn't know what to expect but was hoping I wouldn't get stuck chatting all day, not that I had anything else to do. The yard was small so mowing it wouldn't take long, so I figured offering to do that for her wouldn't hurt. The lady that came to the screen door and looked out at me? If Mom hadn't told me who had moved in I wouldn't have recognized her, at least at first. Her hair was down and she was wearing a summery blouse and shorts, and the smile she gave me was a lot brighter than it had been back at school, probably because she didn't have to put up with us anymore.
"Randy LaFountain!" Mrs. Ryan chirped loudly as her smile widened, but my eyes were busy elsewhere as I let her lead me inside her cottage, and my mind was racing as I followed her into the kitchen.
"So wonderful to see you again, and what's this you have here? Cookies? They look yummy even if I'm trying to watch my weight," Mrs. Ryan declared, and when she said that I had to check her expression because the blouse she had on showed a lot of skin and from what I could see she had to be kidding.
Mrs. Ryan's arms were pale except some freckles up near her shoulder and very slender, and her forearms had an abundance of fine hairs that looked soft and downy, but my attention was diverted when my eyes went to the rest of her. Contrary to what I had suspected, the librarian had breasts, and not only that she wasn't wearing a bra! Prim and proper Mrs. Ryan bra-less? It was like I had entered a Bizarro World of sorts where everything I knew was wrong.
The more I looked at her breasts which hung down close to her stomach, I figured out that they weren't as big as I thought they were when I first saw them but had probably started to droop like my Mom's had, although that brief glace I got at hers led me to believe that she had the lowest hanging boobs in the world.
All the time I was mentally undressing the former librarian she had been talking a mile a minute, asking about my upcoming college career and whether I still read a lot, and I did the best I could to answer her but my staring at the bumps in her blouse caused my what seemed to be large nipples had not gone unnoticed because when I raised my eyes to meet hers the look on her face told me I was busted.
Mrs. Ryan wasn't mad or offended, so far as I could see. Instead, she almost seemed to enjoy the way I was gawking at her because I guess not many guys a third her age stood there practically drooling at her. The guys hadn't at school, that was for sure, but then again if Mrs. Ryan dressed like this they might have. The fact that she was as old - hell - older than my mother didn't bother me at all.
When the subject of mowing the lawn came up Mrs. Ryan led me outside, and out there became more animated, gesturing around the tiny yard and first explaining the parts that need mowing, and then going around the perimeter to telling me about the flowers she was going to plant, some this year and some next. I didn't know or care anything about horticulture but did my best to listen.
That wasn't easy though, because out in the sunlight Mrs. Ryan got even sexier to me. The freckles on her upper arms and shoulders glowed, and that down on her forearms sparkled in the bright light. Her nipples, clear to see from the beginning, were now apparently stiff and I swear I could tell they were crimson through the white blouse.
My dick was hard and cramped in my briefs as I tried not to stare, but then Mrs. Ryan started talking about whether I thought I would be able to trim some low hanging branches from a tree in the corner of the yard. Her very slender arm stretched upwards as she touched the parts of the tree she wanted removed, and when she did I must have done a double take when I saw the brilliant spray of long red hairs under her arm that became visible with her hand raised.
This was something you didn't see everyday, although my friend Clay just broke up with a girl who didn't shave her armpits either, and after a while I started to like the way it looked. Of course, I would find myself getting attracted to Clay's girlfriends for some odd reason. We had a different kind of friendship, because I liked the guy a lot but hated him too. Maybe it was jealously, because he was perfect, or so it seemed. Star athlete, honor student and good looking to boot, he had his choice of girls all through high school and it looked like he chose most of them.
Clay was arrogant though, treating girls like crap and badmouthing them after he dumped them, and he wasn't all that nice to me either most of the time. Clay had a mean streak that I had experienced more than once, but I took it because I had few friends and despite it all looked up to him. Regardless, that girl he dumped was the first one I had seen with hair under her arms, and now Mrs. Ryan of all people, was the second, and it did nothing cool my jets.
As we made the tour of the yard which wasn't much bigger than half a basketball court, I keep trying to make mental notes, but the thought that dominated my thoughts were hanging loosely in Mrs. Ryan's blouse. Nobody from school would ever believe me if I told them how different she looked away from the circulation desk, but when I tried to figure out who to call first it hit me.
Why should I tell anybody? The list of friends I had was short, and few of them even called me to invite me somewhere or any kind of social event. I could picture even those I could tell laughing when I told them that the spinster librarian was sexy looking. Why should I leave myself open to abuse, and even more important, why should I subject Mrs. Ryan to their derision? No, this would be my little secret.
"Randy?"
"Huh? Oh. Sorry," I apologized after her voice broke me out of my daze, and after she told me how much was the going rate for moving the lawn every week or so I shook my head.
"No, it's a little yard," I said in refusing any compensation. "I can do it in no time flat when I do our yard. And the other stuff? That won't take long either."
"Well, we shan't argue about that because I would never let you do it for nothing," Mrs. Ryan said in her strict librarian voice. "I mean that Randall."
Ouch. Mom at her most pissed never called me anything but Randy, but I smiled at the dreaded formal name and nodded.
"You're the boss, as always," I told her, and then her smile returned while she squeezed my arm.
