The first week living in the tiny house in Beverly's backyard went by quickly. I was busy turning it from house to home as I also prepared for my first college teaching position. I arranged the area in the bedroom to accommodate my computer and the several books I would use frequently. I stocked the kitchen pantry, bought a few extra dishes and a new coffee maker. I saw Beverly daily but mostly in passing. She seemed to be busy too, but I did wonder if she was keeping a little distance in light of the rather intimate session we had. Afterall, we had only known each other for two days when we ended up in mutual masturbation, looking at some pornographic magazines I found in her garage while installing the door opener.
That totally sensual event occupied my thoughts almost constantly and I wondered if I had somehow taken advantage. Beverly had lost her husband Dan just a year before and she might have been overly vulnerable. She admitted to having had an extremely adventurous sex life that came to a full stop at his death. She certainly wasn't hesitant to share some details, but there were several questions in my mind that I was dying to know. I suspected that Bev and Dan were intimate with other couples and possibly threesomes or more. She hinted at the possibility, especially in talking to me about the porn theater that re-opened as a private club.
Beverly did, however, express some concern after our shared masturbation that she hoped we didn't move so fast that it would damage what she hoped would become a strong friendship, with or without the sensuality. Although, almost in the same breath, and with accompanying tears, she admitted how happy she was that our togetherness recaptured a bit of the wonderful sex life she enjoyed so much. In truth we only looked at some very graphic pictures, talked about what excited us while she intently watched me stroking my cock while I totally focused on her finger fucking herself and vigorously strumming her clit. At her suggestion I shot a huge load on her tits as she came. Other than that, there was no actual contact. Now I wonder if in the past two weeks she had brought herself to orgasms thinking about all of that. I certainly did, almost nightly.
Later this afternoon I'll wander over to the main house with a bottle of Chardonay and suggest a happy hour, apologizing for being so preoccupied.
* * * * *
Beverly opened the door before I could knock. She was barefoot and dressed very casually in a white T-shirt and what looked to be a pair of men's boxer shorts.
"Hi, I was watching you come across the yard with that bottle of wine and hoped you were coming to say hello."
"Of course," I replied. "We haven't had much of a chance to visit and I apologize for that. I got carried away in my own little world, preparing the house and getting things organized for when my job starts."
"I figured as much and wanted to leave you to get settled without being the bothersome landlady."
"You would never be a bother and I would welcome your company anytime. In fact, I was worried that maybe you felt we moved to fast when we first met and that maybe you were purposefully creating some distance."
Beverly smiled and gave a small laugh and motioned me to the kitchen table while she fetched a bottle opener and two wine glasses. I took the time to admire her great legs and cute tiny feet. Again, Bev, was braless and her nipples were clearly on high beam. As she returned to the table, she caught me staring.
"I see you enjoy it when I don't confine myself," she said with a big smile."
"Sorry, I couldn't help it."
"Don't be sorry. I'm flattered that I could attract your attention. Have you been thinking at all about our little sensual interlude? That's not how I usually respond when meeting someone for the first time, but I am very glad it took the course it did."
"I thought of little else for the past week," I said, as I removed the cork and poured us some wine. "Cheers," and we touched glasses, making lingering eye contact during the first sip.
"Did your thoughts lead to any masturbatory moments," she asked?
"Wow, this English teacher will remember that word. Can't say I have ever heard it used before. But to answer your question, my thoughts led to more than masturbatory moments. They led to epic Jack-Off sessions where I would bring myself to the very edge of coming and then ease off and let the pre-cum ooze out and then restart stroking."
"Rob, easy boy, I'm seeing a rise in your shorts and your description is causing me more than bit of leakage."
"Leakage? Where might that be occurring," I asked while laughing?
"I know what you are doing, young man. You just want to hear me say that my cunt's wet."
"Yes, I love to hear a woman talk dirty. The mind's imagination is the strongest erogenous zone for most of us."