1
She couldn't help it. When she saw him she felt a flutter through her body that took her completely by surprise. He pulled up in a big, beat up, old pickup truck with those really loud exhaust pipes, and a trailer on the back that carried his lawn machinery. She had just stepped out to get the mail. He was pulling the cord on the lawn mower. When he heard her, he looked up, and she was in shock. Shocked by what just looking at him did to her. He was perfectly formed. Tall, well muscled arms, deep brown tan, a mess of short blond hair, and blue eyes you could see from a mile away.
"Hello," he said. "I'm Trevor. I'll be taking care of your lawn today. How are you Mrs. Gibson?
"I'm good." She didn't know what else to say. She found it difficult to form words in her mind, let alone form them with her mouth.
"Could you trim the hedges along the driveway?" She asked.
"I was just looking at those," he said. "I will."
"Ok. Thank you." And she ran back inside.
She leaned against the front door and noticed she was almost shaking. What the hell just happened? She went to the kitchen to catch her breath and poured herself a glass of water. My God, she thought to herself, this can't be happening. She went to the living room and looked out the window. Already the hedges were trimmed. She watched as again he struggled trying to start the lawn mower. He opened the gas cap then checked the oil. Sarah hoped he wouldn't come to the front door asking for help. Please don't. She couldn't believe how she acted earlier and didn't want to go through another peculiar moment. Or, maybe, she just didn't want to interact with him for fear he may catch a sign of what he did to her. He went to his truck, pulled out a gas can, and filled the mower. On the third pull it worked. Thank God.
OK, she thought to herself. I'll go up to my office and do some work. Through the window, she took one last glance at the young man pushing the lawn mower, and then went upstairs.
She sat at her desk, turned on the computer, and tried containing her thoughts. She read emails, wrote down a few notes, and realized she was completely distracted by thoughts of Trevor. She had never had a reaction to another person like this before - not even her husband. Though there had been, and still was, great attraction to the man she married, this was different. This was pure passion. Pure, debilitating, passion. Passion she wondered if she could control.
Ok. Work, she said to herself.
She picked up the phone, about to call her office, when the doorbell rang. Fuck, she said out loud. And as much as she was afraid to answer it, a part of her wanted it to be him. She stood, checked herself in a mirror, and went down to the front door.
"Sorry Mrs. Gibson. I just nicked my arm on a branch. Do you have a band aid?" Sarah looked at his wound. A deep, two inch, scratch across his right fore arm.
"Of course I do. Do you want to come in?"
"Sure."
"Come to the kitchen. I'll clean you off and we'll stitch it up," she said smiling, conscious of whether her words were the least bit seductive. A part of her hoped they weren't. And a part of her hoped they were.
They walked into the large gourmet kitchen with stainless steel appliances, and a large granite island in the centre.
"Sit up here."
She pulled a chair out from the island for him to sit on, opened the cupboard, and looked for some band aids and rubbing alcohol. She had to stand on her tippy toes to look into the cupboard, and she wondered if he was looking at her ass.
"You're not really going to stitch me are you?" Trevor asked.
"No. I don't think we'll need stitches. Which is good because I haven't used a needle in a while," she said smiling.
He smiled back. "You had me worried."
"Oh, you'd have nothing to worry about. I used to be a nurse," she said.
"Really? My Mom is a nurse. So are two of my aunt's."
"Where do they work?"
"Mount Sinai."
"Great hospital."
"Yeah. They love their jobs."
"It is a great job."
"Yeah. They always tell me I should become a nurse."
"Why don't you?"
"I don't like needles. Or blood."
Sarah laughed. "Either do I."
Trevor smiled. "What do you do now?" He asked.
"I'm a psychiatrist," Sarah said, opening the rubbing alcohol.
"This might sting a bit."
"I can handle it."
Sarah applied the alcohol.
Trevor winced, looking into Sarah's eyes. When he did, she almost forgot what she was doing. Good lord don't look into my eyes she thought. She could feel her face blush.
"Hold that."
She opened the band aid and placed it on the cut.
"Ok. That should do it."
Trevor checked her work. "Good job Mrs. Gibson," he said smiling. "Thanks a lot. I thought I needed stitches."
Sarah smiled as she leaned over the counter. "I think you'll make it," she said.
"I'll get back at it,' Trevor said.
"Is there anything else you need done?' He asked from the door.
"No. the hedges were my only concern."
"Ok." And he walked out the door.
Sarah sat at the island counter, replaying their conversation in her mind. Did he sense her nervousness and excitement? Did she give any hint of her attraction to him? She noticed the magnetism between them while they talked. Did he feel it too?
This is nuts, she thought. I'm 39 years old. He's probably 19. Put him out of your mind. Besides, you're married, with two kids. Why would he remotely find interest in me? Again, Sarah walked to the window. She knew she shouldn't, but something inside her couldn't stop. One last look. She peeked through the drapes and watched as he rode the lawn mower across her property. She wanted to be close to him, feel his breath on her neck, smell his skin.
Sarah went upstairs to her bedroom. She partially closed the curtains, layed on her bed and closed her eyes. She undid her pants and pulled them down to her knees. She pulled her panties aside and stroked herself with her fingers. In her mind she pictured riding Trevor, feeling him deep inside her. She imagined him licking her breasts and tightly holding her ass while she pleasured herself with him. Dear God, she whispered, completely lost in fantasy. I shouldn't be doing this, she thought, knowing that masturbating thinking of him would only enhance her attraction. Oh, fuck, she gasped, as orgasm rippled through her mind and body.
She lay on her bed enjoying deep relief, and allowed her mind to settle. She got out of bed, walked over to the window, and noticed Trevor was gone. Disappointed, she told herself this was good as she had work to do. So, she went back to her office and got on with her work day.
That night, while lying in bed, she allowed her mind to wander on thoughts of Trevor. Paul, her husband, had fallen asleep quickly and so, in the dark, unable to sleep, she fantasized.
How could it happen? What scenario would allow her and Trevor to be together? Maybe she'd run into him at the grocery store or the mall. Maybe, while walking through the forest trail one night, he'd be there. There we go. That would be interesting. Alone, secluded. Sarah imagined the scene in her mind. He'd be sitting on a fallen tree in the forest. She would approach him, smile, say hello, sit down beside him. She imagined him whispering in her ear. She would put her hand on his leg and look at the tall trees in the forest around them. She would draw small circles on his thigh, and slowly move her hand higher. He would lean in and kiss her neck. The thought of his soft lips on her neck made her wet. Her hand would move across his lap up to the waist of his jeans. His kissing would become harder, with gentle strokes from his tongue. He would gently suck her throat trying to leave marks, and as much as the feeling made her weak, she'd pull away. You can't leave any marks she'd say.
Stand up, she'd tell him. She'd undo the button of his jeans while keeping an eye out for any passerby. In her mind, she saw herself pulling down his pants and taking his enormous cock in her hands. Should we be doing this Mrs. Gibson? He'd ask. I don't know Trevor. Should we stop? She would say, looking up at him. No? And then she'd take him in her mouth.
In bed, Sarah could feel herself becoming wet, she could feel her clit throbbing. She wondered if her husband would notice if she fingered herself gently under the blankets. Instead, she went downstairs to get a drink of water.
She got out of bed and went down to the kitchen. After sipping a cold glass of water she let her hand slide between her legs. She could feel the wet fullness of her clit. In the dark, she leaned against the cold, stone, counter and stroked herself. Again, she imagined Trevor's cock in her mouth, and his hands holding her head as she took him deeper and deeper. She could hear him moan and taste his ejaculate as he readied to cum.
"Cum baby," she'd say to him. "Cum in my mouth." His hands tighter on her head, his body tensing as she sucked faster.
In the kitchen she was lost in dream. Her fingers rapidly stimulating herself. She fought to stay quiet as her body climaxed at the thought of Trevor pulsating in her mouth. After a satisfying orgasm, Sarah stood silent in the kitchen. This is nuts she thought. What am I going to do? She convinced herself she could put him out of her mind, and that tomorrow she would probably not think twice about him. With that, she went back to bed.
For the next few days Trevor floated through Sarah's mind as an occasional daydream, And as the day drew closer for when he would be back to cut the lawn, she felt slight pangs of excitement stir within her. She spent more time checking herself out in mirrors as if trying to convince herself she was attractive. She knew she was. All her friends, and even her husband, were constantly commenting on how good she looked, particularly for her age. She worked out regularly, and except for the slight graying in her hair that was usually taken care of by a visit to the hair salon, her hair was still as long and lustrous as it had been back in college.
And so the question presented itself. Could she seduce this young man? Did she still have what it took? She almost considered it a challenge - a challenge she was torn on whether she should take.
She decided she would definitely take a shot during his next visit. See if she could catch his attention so to speak. After deciding this, she went up to her closet to look for something she would wear.
The weather for Thursday was calling for extreme heat. The temperature over the past few weeks had been up near the ninties and it showed no sign of letting up. I'll have to wear something skimpy Sarah thought to herself, as she examined her closet. She pulled a pair of blue shorts from the shelf and tried them on. Looking in the mirror she wondered if maybe they were a little too short. She turned around and saw they barely covered her ass. After feeling the thrill of wearing such a revealing piece of clothing, she decided she'd wear them, with a white cotton t-shirt, not too tight, and no bra. She didn't have large breasts, but they were a nice shape, and they were big enough to catch an eye. The idea of wearing such a provocative outfit for Trevor gave Sarah a feeling of exhilaration. She felt nervous and excited and couldn't wait until the next day when she'd see him. Now, one last thing to consider - panties? Or no panties? No panties, she decided. She loved the feeling of not wearing panties.
