Mary Clarke lived next door to 19 year-old Mark and his parents Cissy and John. She was divorced after thirty years married to her childhood sweetheart who, at fifty-five, had discovered that even if money could not buy him happiness, it could buy a lot of pleasure from a younger, more adventurous woman. Even then Mary might still have been married, except that he began stopping out all night and spending large amounts on gifts for his mistress, while Mary just accepted her lot. Then, one night, he rolled in drunk and admitted his affair, telling her that he had made his mistress pregnant. Mary lost her, somewhat fiery, temper and threw him out. The next morning, as soon as her lawyer got into her office, Mary was filing for divorce.
Mary was more than a neighbour to Mark and his parents. She had been their friend ever since they had moved in and, when the divorce was finally settled, Mary invited the families who had supported her through an exhausting and messy episode in her life, to a huge 'freedom party'. Almost the while block turned up and the party graduated from a fairly subdued collection of friends to a riotous session of hair letting. Loud music blared and everybody seemed to be in a huge competition to prove who could have the noisiest good time.
Even the best parties wind down, however, and Mary's was no exception. Soon the only people left, apart from Mary, were Cissy, John and Mark. Mary saw the three of them to the door, exchanging brief hugs with John and Cissy. They asked if she needed a hand putting the furniture back and clearing up but Mary told them she would leave it until morning. Mark surprised everyone when he spoke up;
"I'll come and give you a hand, if, you want. I've finished school and I'm not starting University until September."
"Mark, that's so kind. I'd be very grateful for your help."
"I'll be over at about half-past nine, if that's ok?"
"Thank you Mark that'll be just fine."
Mary closed the door and turned off the lights, climbing the stairs to her bedroom and sprawling across the bed. As she drifted off to sleep her, slightly boozy, thoughts turned to Mark and she idly imagined what his body would be like beneath his baggy t-shirt and denim jeans. Sleepily she shook her head and admonished herself.
"What would a young man see in an old woman like me?"
Turning on to her side with a sigh, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep. Mark, on the other hand, couldn't sleep. He was wondering why he had volunteered to help Mary clear up. It was not as if she was anything more than a neighbour to him. She was a friend of his parents, certainly, and she had helped him with his English and Math from time to time, but that was about it. The more he thought about her, the more he found himself imagining touching her. He closed his eyes and pictured his hands cupping her breasts, the soft flesh spilling out of his fingers. Mark's sleep was restless that night and, for the first time since starting senior school he mumbled in his sleep.
Promptly at nine-thirty, Mark tapped on Mary's door. There was no response to his first, gentle, taps and he was tempted to walk back down the garden path. Instead he tapped the door again, harder and louder this time.
"The door's open, come inside, I'll only be a minute." Mary called from her bedroom.
She had watched Mark walk up to her door from behind her curtains. In the back of her mind she had decided to see if he would knock and wait or if he would take the opportunity to duck out of his offer of last night. She smiled at the second knock on the door and went to sit in front of her dressing table. She had already showered and was wearing only her silk bathrobe. Now, knowing that Mark was downstairs, she undid the belt and let it fall open. Her breasts full and swelling spilled out and she cradles them, first one, then the other, in her hands. She was generously endowed, her breasts overflowing the50D cupped bra she normally wore. Closing her eyes, she kneaded her soft curves caressing herself and imagining teaching Mark how to caress and manipulate them to please her. Her fingers swirled around the base of each nipple, drawing the brown puckered circles out into stiff hard points. They felt rubbery and elastic as she tugged gently on them with her finger and thumb. The bushy curls between her thighs were becoming damp again, this time from the sweet juices flowing out of her pussy rather than the warm soapy water of the shower.
"Mark, yes, touch me Mark, just there, just like that"
The sound of her own voice blocked the slight scuffing of Mark's shoes on the carpet as he climbed the stairs. He stood looking through the gap where Mary had left the door ajar, looking across the room at Mary's reflection in the dressing table mirror. He watched through the crack as Mary took her breast in her hands and kneaded the smooth skin between her fingers, squeezing and releasing rhythmically, moving her hands over the skin, lifting the mass of her breast and letting it fall back towards her rounded belly with a soft slapping sound. His eyes widened as she took hold of her breast and lifted the nipple to her own lips. His hand crept into the front of his jeans as he watched her taking the tip of her hard pink nipple between her lips and suckle upon it noisily. His ears seemed to fill with the sound of her sucking and tonguing her nipple and he could not take his eyes off the pink bud as it hardened and swelled with every lick. Mark's hand rubbed the bulge in his jeans, matching the rhythm of Mary's fingers and tongue as she kneaded the round globe of her breast and tongued her nipple. His hand went to the buttons of his fly and he popped them open one by one, reaching inside to take hold of his burgeoning cock through his white boxers. As she sucked herself, Mary's other hand crept lower and lower, down her belly to the lush expanse of soft curly hair. Her fingers weaved through the fuzz, like snakes through sodden grass, until she was able to touch the hard bobbin of flesh guarding the entrance to her pussy. She gasped as she touched herself, feeling the nub of sensitive flesh harder and more sensitive than she could remember. Mark raised himself on tiptoe, to see where her hand was stroking, trying to look over her shoulder in the mirror. The sound of Mary's fingers dipping into the wetness of her pussy is loud in the quiet of the room and her ears are filled with the sound of her own excited panting as she strokes the base of her hardened clit. Mark pushed his boxers down to release his aching cock, taking hold of his shaft and stroking slowly, toying with the swollen purple knob, smearing the glistening pearls of pre-cum over the shiny head.
Mark shifted his weight on one foot and accidentally caught the door handle, pushing the door a little wider. The hinges creaked and Mary opened her eyes with a start. For a moment she could not focus, still distracted by her pleasure. Mark froze like a rabbit in car headlights, panicking that she had caught him. Mary's gaze tracked to the mirror and she caught Mark's eyes with her own. All he could do was lower his gaze. Mary turned a little to face him as he stood in the doorway. Her eyes slowly travelled from his feet up to his face, pausing to gauge the size of his erection. Her mouth went dry and her pussy flooded, for a moment, as she took in the size of him. She was pleased to see that his chest was smooth and almost hairless and, save for a narrow triangle of paleness over his groin he was lightly tanned. She swallowed and managed to find her voice.
"How long were you watching Mark?"
