It was a brutal day to be out in the yard mowing, but Jason was out there anyway, pushing the lawnmower like he had been doing for us every week or so for the last couple of summers. It was a sight that I had always enjoyed, and one that would likely not be seen again, because Jason was going off the college soon.
Watching Jason grow up before my eyes was enjoyable, and although he was no longer the awkward kid with the skinned knees and braces, he had never changed from being extremely polite and well-mannered.
"He's now a man," I said aloud as I watched him from the door that led out to the deck, and although he still had his boyish good looks, there was no mistaking the fact that he was now an adult physically as well as chronologically.
Jason must be about 5'10" and maybe 140 pounds soaking wet these days, I figured, and soaking wet he was, his lightly tanned body glistening with sweat as he worked. He had taken his shirt off before he started, and as the perspiration ran down his smooth chest I felt myself getting warm myself.
"Cute body," I said as he passed by where I was standing, and as he returned my smile with one of his own I wondered whether he had any idea what was going on in my filthy mind.
His long, dirty blonde hair was about the same length as mine, just touching his nicely defined shoulders, and as I watched the muscles in his biceps reflect the exertion as he turned the mower around I fought the urge to do what I had done the week before. Stick with the plan, Marie, I told myself.
***
It had been almost as hot last week when Jason had mowed, and I swear that it was accidental when I went out to offer the boy a glass of ice tea. It wasn't until I saw him staring at me that I realized what I had done, but by then it was too late.
I had been doing some housekeeping, and was wearing a pink tank-top without a bra underneath. While that's something I do around the house when I'm alone, I never go out in public like that. I used to, back in the 70's, but this isn't the 70's and my breasts aren't 19 anymore either.
They're not only small, but they have a bit of sag to them as well, so it wasn't like I was flaunting my limited assets when I gave Jason the drink. He looked though, long and hard, which was how I realized that I was revealing way more than a 57 year old woman should.
Flustered, I excused myself and went back inside, hurrying to my bedroom to change my top before Jason got the wrong idea. As I passed the dresser mirror I stopped when I saw my reflection.
Banana boobs. I posed in front of the mirror, wishing that Jason could have seen them back when they would have pointed at him instead of my feet. Still, he looked, and as I watched my fat nipples try and tear through the fabric of my tank-top, I felt a tingling from within me.
The same tingling I felt when I chatted with my literotica readers and fellow writers. The wetness that appeared between my legs when Blaine and I would exchange naughty e-mails, when John would write with naughty suggestions, or when Becky or Ralph or Bobby and Bina or Tim or...
I went over to the window and yanked down my shorts and panties while peeking through the blinds to the backyard, where Jason had resumed mowing. I was going to get my toy, but I was too inflamed to bother. Instead, my finger went inside my cunt, and as I worked over my clit I looked out at Jason.
His nicely toned body was so smooth, save for the sprinkling of golden hair on his calves, and as I wondered what was underneath those shorts I saw him look over to the deck. Was he looking for me? His hand went to his crotch, briefly rearranging things under his shorts. Was he hard? Did I somehow excite him? Did seeing my swollen nipples through my blouse actually arouse him?
I came, making the blinds shake wildly when I bumped into them while riding out my orgasm, and after I regained my composure and my eyesight cleared I looked to see if Jason had noticed the movement of the shades, but he was just doing his job. He did rearrange his goodies again for me though before he was finished, which was why I was prepared when he arrived this week.
***
This week I checked my reflection in the mirror BEFORE I went out. No pink tank-top without a bra this week. It was yellow, and while I was planning to tease my nipples so that they were popping out when he saw me, there was no need because they were so taut that they were throbbing against the cotton.
Lifting my short white skirt, I examined the triangle of golden fur that I had trimmed for the occassion. My labia were so clearly visible, pouting outwardly and even more obvious with the thinning of my pubic hair, and they were already moist with my inner cauldron percolating like it had back in my younger days.
Moving out to the kitchen, I grabbed the pitcher of iced tea I had prepared along with the glasses, using my hip in nudging the sliding glass door open wide enough to ease out onto the deck. Jason was almost done, making my timing exquisite, and I arranged things on the deck just the way I had planned.
The mower cut off, and after Jason put the machine into the shed he walked over toward me, wiping the sweat from his brow with his shirt, which he had taken from around his waist where he had tied it.
"Here Jason," I said, handing him a fresh towel. "This might work better."
"Thanks," Jason replied, and what I really wanted to do was to offer to towel him down with it myself. Either that, or licking his lithe and limber torso from head to toe would have been an enticing option.
Instead I watched him rub the soft terry cloth through his scalp and over his chest, the beige skin losing the glaze of perspiration but none of the attractiveness. Jason smiled as he continued to dry himself off, running the cloth under his arms to dry the little wisps of hair that were nestled in the deep pockets of his armpits, as I felt myself start to sweat myself.
"I took a shower before I came here," Jason said apologetically. "I'm a mess. Sorry."
"Nonsense," I said as I handed Jason an envelope and motioned for him to sit down in the lawn chair opposite from where I planned to sit. "You look wonderful. Sweaty men are sexy. Here."
I placed a large tumbler of iced tea next to him, and a shiver went down my spine when Jason's eyes went to the scoop neck of my tank top, which had bowed out just like I had hoped, exposing just about all of my little titties to him.
When I straightened up he turned away and blushed just a little, having been caught in the act. If that got him a little flustered, I wondered what he would be doing in a couple of minutes if all went according to plan?
"Wow!" Jason exclaimed when he looked at the little card I had handed him. "What's this?"
"A little token of our esteem," I said, explaining away the check that was inside the card, and while the words inside the card was in my writing, the check was written by my husband, making me feel less creepy than I would have otherwise. "You've done such a wonderful job over the years with the lawn."
"Gee thanks. This will help with buying books next semester," Jason explained as he placed the check back in the card and set it down.
"Going to miss you around here," I said, and I wanted to add that he would be missed in more ways than gardening, his presence providing me with a lot of luscious eye-candy this past summer. "I guess I'll have to do it myself from now on. Just as well though. It'll help get me into shape."
I eased down into the high back lounge chair and lifted my arms and grab the back of it. My titties responded, raising up a little bit and forcing my engorged nipples into the tank-top.
