Chandice couldn't figure out what was wrong with herself. The start of the lawnmowers engine just seemed to send chills through her body, right to the special spot between her legs. No she didn't have a lawnmower fetish, but she did seem to have a thing for the landscaper that was using it. She just couldn't understand it, she had never been attracted to a white guy before this.
Chandice looked over herself in the mirror and she fluffed out her raven colored hair. At twenty-nine she could say she a nice body. Slim and taught stomach, c-cup breasts, and a nice round ass. Her dark chocolate skin was smooth and free of wrinkles, and her light brown eyes made men stare into them. That damn motor, it was making her bare nipples harden, and her pussy start to moisten her light blue panties.
Chandice walked into the bedroom and looked out the window to the lawn below. There Brent pushed the mower along, wearing a t-shirt and jean shorts, suitable clothes for ninety-degree weather, but it hugged his form, showing toned but not huge muscles. His white skin was a golden tan, which his sweat made glisten. His long golden hair wet with water, which he usually pours on his head to keep it cool.
Brent's dad was a successful landscaper, having a very popular business for doing office landscapes. He worked for his dad, doing the business landscapes during the week. At the last neighborhood social a few months ago, his dad had told people that if they needed lawn work done, Brent would be happy to make some extra money as well. Chandice and several others hired the young twenty three year old.
Chandice suddenly caught herself rubbing the crotch of her panties, making the wet spot grow. This is what she was talking about. She couldn't understand why he turned her on. Sure, she had seen hot white men before this, but they never did this to her. Was it something to do with how her own sex life with her husband, or lack of one, had been?
Chandice's husband, Derek, was a very attractive man. He was slightly older then her, in his mid thirties, charcoal skin, bald and well built. When they first met two years ago, lots of hot sex ensued. It was wild, passionate, and often. Now they've been married for a year, and about six months ago it started to decline.
Now for the past two months, it's been nonexistent. It was the usual thing in this situation. He had to work late, been very tired when he came home. She kept trying to tell herself it wasn't the blond white girl secretary that had just been assigned to him.
Chandice walked over to her bed, today's outfit already laid out by her. Something must have been going through her mind as she had pulled out her outfit. A white tank top lay on the bed, with a blue short-sleeve shirt, which she would have to leave unbuttoned cause of the heat. She had decided on a pair of tight blue jean shorts that fell to just above her knees, and hugged every inch of her body. She tried to justify that it was hot out, but she knew just by looking at it that it would tell someone that she wanted to fuck.
The purr of the lawnmower sent another chill through Chandice, an uncontrollable urge. It was then she knew that she didn't just want to, but she needed to. Otherwise, the urges would be too much for her. She pulled on the outfit, and headed down stairs to her computer. She checked her emails, and found one from Derek. He had been asked to come in for Saturday, and now it looked like he would have to stay late.
For once Chandice smiled at the idea of him being gone today. It was funny, she knew what she was going to do but she didn't feel guilty about it at all. She walked over to the living room window and looked out at Brent, who had just taken off his shirt and watched as he turned off the lawnmower.
Brent's body was tight in every way, muscles not super big, but he was very chiseled and defined. She let out a slight moan as she imagined running her hands over his chest and abs. After she wiped the look of lust from her face, she walked over the door and opened the door.
"What's up Brent?" Chandice called to him stepping into the doorway. "How are you today honey?"
"Oh hey Mrs. Hentsin," Brent smiled with a wave. "I'm good."
"Ugh, boy please," Chandice rolled her eyes. "Don't call me that. Makes me feel old. Chandice please."
"Uh, sure Chandice," Brent shrugged and he emptied the lawnmowers contents into a plastic bag.
"You almost done?" Chandice asked, flashing another smile.
"Almost," Brent said before closing the bag. "Need to put this in the trash, put my lawnmower in my truck, and then I'm out of your hair."
"How many more houses do you have to do?" Chandice asked.
"You were my last one for today," Brent said turning to look at her.
"That's cool," Chandice said with another smile as she watched Brent's eyes quickly travel up and down her body. "I was going to make some orange juice. Did you want a glass?"
"Um, sure," Brent said with a smile before wiping his shirt across his forehead.
"Just come on in once you're all done," Chandice said before walking back in and shutting the door.
Chandice headed to the kitchen, grabbed a thing of frozen OJ and went about making it. She had just finished making it when she heard the front door open and close. She turned around, grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and turned back to see Brent walking up to the island counter. Poured two glasses and handed him one.
"Thirsty?" Chandice asked giggling as she watched him drain his glass.
"Yea," Brent nodded after drinking. "Thank you. I needed that."
