Good Neighbors, Ch 8
Lena Takes Two for the Team
Lena here. I shouldn't be writing this little entry in my friends' and neighbors' chronicle of their goings on. I should be visiting grandchildren or knitting a sweater or cultivating my roses. Instead, I've gotten just a little giddy over my neighbors' hot young sons and our shenanigans.
My adventures with Preston and Marty yesterday brought my mourning period to a complete and abrupt end. When I was finished with them (Or perhaps it was when they were finished with me!) I felt I was up for any challenge in the world. Now, after eighteen hours to calm down and to reconsider, I was having second thoughts. What if Jeff and Benjamin couldn't be convinced their mothers were desirable sexual creatures who deserved large, healthy doses of male attention? What if Jeff and Benjamin could only see me as a kindly old neighbor they had known for years or worse, a mournful old widow-lady who deserved only their pity? After all, I'd been widowed five times now and most of the neighborhood delighted in calling me 'The Black Widow' behind my back.
The fact that I was black, my last name was Black, and I was a widow several times over didn't take away any of the sting though. I'm sure if the neighborhood had also known three of my five husbands had died from heart attacks (two of them died in bed with me -- one of them while he was both
on top
and
inside
me) they would have all gotten an even bigger (and, I think
sicker
) hoot out of my five losses. I straightened my posture and reminded myself I was
not
the Black Widow. I was the Silver Fox.
As apprehensive as I was, I still felt a thrill coursing through my entire body as I anticipated the ring on my doorbell. My hands were shaking a little and I fretted that I might have miscalculated with my choice of outfits. I had spent almost exactly one year in mourning but if all that I'd done yesterday proved anything, it proved that I was no longer in mourning. For my lunch with Jeff and Benjamin I had chosen a bright yellow sundress from the back of my closet, some kicky little high-heeled sandals and a simple, matching yellow thong. My dress was a halter-top that tied at my neck with thin cords. I know you must be wondering what a fifty-eight-year-old woman is doing dressed in a short and revealing halter-top dress to have lunch with two young men who were only slightly older than my own grandchildren, but I wanted to make a statement. I didn't want to be "The Black Widow" any longer. I wanted to be "The Silver Fox." As I dressed earlier, I spent a long time admiring the way that slender arc of neatly trimmed silver-white pubic hair on my belly peeked out impishly just above the bright lemon yellow of my thong. Marty was so talented when it came to such things. He had known exactly what my pussy needed to look its most arresting. I could have stopped traffic in this thong. I certainly intended to put a strain on the crotch of Jeff and Benjamin's trousers when I offered them a glimpse of it in a few minutes.
Jeff and Benjamin were both good young men. I'd known them for most of their lives and Abbie and Liz had done a great job raising them. I even felt I had had a hand in raising them. They had always done little chores for me and mowed my grass from time to time. Together they had even removed the stump from a damned old cherry tree that sat squarely and defiantly in the middle of my backyard through all the years of my past two marriages. Together Jeff and Benjamin had removed it and even filled in the hole after both my third and fourth husbands had long since surrendered to the stump and left me still complaining about it. I had watched the two of them work as a team on that old stump and, remembering their teamwork then had given me the idea for how to approach the seemingly impossible challenge Liz and Abbie had dumped in my lap.
The doorbell rang then, and I took one last look at my appearance in the hallway mirror. I giddily decided I didn't look at all like a widow anymore and opened the door.
"Jeff, Benjamin! -- I'm glad you could make it! It's been a such long time since we've talked or even said 'Hi' to one another! I've missed you!" I told the pair standing on my doorstep. I was smiling. Jeff and Benjamin were both standing with their mouths open.
I gave them a moment. I'm sure they were expecting to be greeted by the same old sad-looking drudge in a doo rag, flip-flops and sweats they'd seen out getting her mail from time to time. I'm sure their image of me was as an old haggish grandma who never smiled or so much as waved to them. Instead, I was dressed as smartly as I could manage on such short notice, my hair was carefully done up and my makeup was done to perfection. I had even applied a bit of what I thought of as my secret weapon: my favorite perfume. It was a heady, but exquisitely subtle fragrance that never failed to soften the tensions and sharp edges of every male I'd ever encountered. If any of my past three husbands had been living and here today, they would have enthusiastically agreed.. I didn't wear this scent often, but when I did, I got results. I planned to get results today.
Both young men stepped into the foyer. I closed the door softly behind them and while still in motion I could hear them inhale softly, deeply of my scent. By the time I could circle around to face them once more, they were each wearing the most blissful smiles you could imagine. I smiled. A subtle, enticing scent enveloping a woman can have that effect on virile young men.
There was small talk then. Mostly, I asked them questions, they gave me answers and did their best not to ogle me. I took this all as an encouraging sign that I could still command young men's attention, even at my age. I led the way to my living room, walking slowly, gracefully and inviting them to follow the sway of my hips the entire way.
I hope you don't think less of me for behaving this way. I truly am not a tease and I normally wouldn't even consider inviting young men of an age to be my grandsons to stare at my ass, but I must tell you that I felt more alive in that moment with their young eyes riveted on my swaying hips than you could possibly imagine. It had been such a long time since I had felt the need for a man's attention and now that I was getting it, I felt like a queen holding court.
I guided them to seats on the couch, then sat slowly in my favorite armchair across from them. I thought their eyes would pop out of their heads as they watched me struggle to sit, cross my legs and keep my skirt from rising too high all at the same time. I must have managed it all pretty well because neither fellow gasped at catching a glimpse of my bright yellow thong.
"I hope you boys brought your appetites because I fixed something I know you both like," I announced when I had the hem of my dress safely under control. "Do you remember that sloppy-joe noodle casserole I fixed when you were struggling to tear out that dratted cherry tree stump?"
Their faces lit up at this and I wasn't sure if it was the thought of my casserole or the memory of conquering that damn stump making them smile. I took their smiles as a good sign, either way.
"Yeah! I sure do," Jeff called out, "I haven't thought about that for ages!"
Benjamin nodded in agreement.
Our conversation seemed to warm up once these two discovered there would be food involved. Still, they were eyeing me closely and I was certain they found the sight of me dressed so provocatively more than a little interesting. I didn't look at all like their grandma or the kindly old neighbor-lady from across the street.
"There's something different about you, Mrs. Black," Benjamin noted, still eyeing me as I sat across from them with my legs carefully crossed.
