Mrs Swanson

I first saw her in the food line. She was beside me feeding her plate with salad. With the way she was hunched over I couldn't resist looking down her black blouse. I was discrete. I hit her with a few indirect glances, looking in her direction but not exactly at her. Her cleavage was mighty; her breasts were very well developed. Then when she stood up to slide further down the line, I could not restrain myself in examining her lower body. Her ass filled that tight denim skirt perfectly. It stopped just before her knees and was to die for. Staring at those back pockets was hypnotic. Moving down her legs, she completely her appearance with a pair black pumps.

My parents invited a bunch of their friends and acquaintances to this barbeque. I thought it was unfair to me because they intended it to be a bash for their company so my own pals were out of the question. It was tough trying to mingle with people who were a generation above me. To me it was a lost cause.

The only worthwhile thing that did come out of this outing was Mrs. Swanson. She was nothing like the girls I saw around my university campus. For one thing, she was easily 15 years my senior. She was so developed and experienced. I wasn't sure where she fitted in as a friend to my parents. Everyone knew where she lived but not much more than that. Word was that she was courteous enough so it was a wonder why she never garnered much attention. She was certainly a gorgeous woman. Her red hair and brown eyes were certainly an oddity, but I liked it. She only wore a bit of makeup because she was so naturally radiant.

We both finished grabbing our food and found separate places to eat. People were scattered all over our back yard. There were mostly groups of four or five. Everyone was chatting about with at least one other person except for me and Mrs Swanson. We sat about twenty feet across from each other. As I munched on, I watched her pick at her own food and play with her cell phone. Her skirt tightened into a convenient little place mat for her plate. Her skin coloured hose was so delightful to look at.

Again I pondered the anomaly of this woman. She was absolutely gorgeous, yet she ate alone? Why was she even alone anyways? Where was Mr. Swanson? Did he even exist? If he did, I never saw him. I saw HER a lot though. Whenever my parents sent me to do random chores in the front yard I'd sometimes see her hanging around on her lawn. She was one house over on the opposite side of the street. Thus my view of her was pretty good. Somehow she dropped her phone and it landed under her chair. With a plate on her lap it was awkward manoeuvring to find it. She hunched over and reached down to try to feel out with her hands. She was having a difficult time but eventually retrieved. All the while I got a nice peek of a dark coloured bra.

Maybe it was because I had to find out about her for myself and maybe it was because I pitied her for sitting in solitude, but I got up and sat down next to her. Her beautiful face lit up at the sight of my presence. I got to see those pink lips and white teeth at work. "Oh hey Jakey!"

"You know my name?" I didn't know why I said that. Certainly, it was out of nervousness but seeing as I was fine a few seconds ago, I didn't know what came over me. I guessed that her playfulness in pronouncing my name really threw me off.

"Of course I do Jake. It'd be really bad of me not to know the names of my hosts, wouldn't it?"

Her smile made me smile. "Yeah, I guess it would."

"I see you Jake, outside your house mowing the lawn or raking leaves. If it's warm enough with your shirt off too..."

She laughed. So did I. Very nervously. I blushed at the statement. I didn't know where she was going with it so I changed the subject to something that was certain to go somewhere. "Sorry if this is a little intrusive, but is there a Mr. Swanson?"

Her expression dropped a tiny bit but she still maintained her smile. "No. There was...but he left. We had kids pretty earlier so they're all grown up and moved out. SO, it's just me." I think I heard a sigh accompany those final two words.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear."

"So am I."

"Why keep his name?"

"Convenience mainly. After being Mrs. Swanson for a while it becomes it's so much easier." She paused. "Plus, I don't want people to know that I'm a forty year old divorcee. It's a little embarrassing to be honest."

I was ready to probe her longer when I heard my name from halfway across the yard. "JAAAAAAKE! Can you get a garbage bag from the garage?" It was my mom. I rolled my eyes because I was in the middle of something with Mrs. Swanson. Still, I excused myself from the conversation and said I'd be back in a bit.

I was in there for a good five minutes looking for those stupid bags. I rummaged through the shelves in near futility. "Where in the bloody hell are they?!" I went through boxes and boxes trying to find them but I came up with nothing. Forget it, I thought I was calling it quits. I headed towards the door when I saw a shadowy figure standing in the doorway. The dimness of the garage masked who it was. It couldn't be, I thought to myself. The figure flicked the light switch. I thought two things when that happened. The first was turning on the light would've aided my bag searching mission a lot more. The second thought was "holy shit."

Here was Mrs. Swanson leaning on the doorframe looking very seductive. I gulped. "Mrs Swanson? What are you doing here?"

"Please, Jake, call me Rachel."

I swallowed again. I was fidgeting. "Ok...Rachel...what are you doing here?"

She stepped forward and stood in front of me. Her breasts just jutted toward me. It made me tense just looking at them. Suddenly, I sensed where she was going with this. I shifted gears into anticipation mode. "I just wanted to help you." She smiled again.

She held my hands in hers. They were so soft compared to my rugged skin. "You're hands, they're shaking Jake. Are you uneasy about something?" She teased.

"A little." I played back to her.

"Well, you know what I'd do when my hands can't stop moving? I put them in my pockets." And with that she guided my hands into the back pockets of her skirt. Then she forced them to give her denim clad ass a squeeze. It felt so good. Her cheeks were so firm. The fabric ran so nicely on my fingers. She took her hands away from mine and allowed me the free agency to massage her buttocks. While I did that, our bodies got closer and she ran her hands up my black t-shirt. I pinched her ass and she jumped a bit.

My cock was ready to escape its own denim dungeon. Mrs. Swanson unbuttoned my jeans and let it out. She gasped. "Oh my...Jakey's got a snakey!" She sang. She stroked my stiff member. I was hot now. I wanted her. But a huge precaution stopped me.

"Wait...I don't have a condom Mrs Swanson."

"It's Rachel. And don't worry Jakey...I'm on the pill." She winked and smirked at me.

With those fears put away, I had free enterprise to do as I liked. I took my hands out of her pockets and grabbed her head. I forced a kiss on her beautiful face while she continued to stroke my rocket. I could her sweet muffled moans.

I broke my hold on her as soon as I felt her unbutton her skirt. I whipped my hands out of her pockets and stopped her. "Mmm, no. Please. Keep it on. You look so damn sexy with it."

Rachel smiled quite deviously. Instead she just hiked up her skirt all the way to her waist. She tugged her black panties aside to reveal a quite rabid bush that matched her red locks. She licked her finger and rubbed her pussy lips. Seeing her do that made me tear open her silk blouse. She was a VERY developed woman. Huge areolas, perky nipples. I had to have her now so I rushed her back into a wall.

Just like my hands, my shaking cock needed a pocket of its own. I took her against that wall. I was relentless. I lifted her up by her meaty ass cheeks and ploughed through the forest. She locked her powerful legs around my hips and just hung on for dear life. With one hand she clutched the shelving unit above us for leverage and with the other she held on to me. Mrs. Swanson, I mean, Rachel was panting hard. The only words she spoke were very airy "yes's". I was very willing to oblige. How could I turn away from such a delicious body? Rachel was just starving for attention. She was without a man in her life to give her the proper attention she so obviously deserved. Thinking back to her comment about watching me while I worked, she was hinting that she was a prowler. And now, following me out to the garage only cemented that opinion.

I fucked her for several minutes longer. The desperation in her voice told me that she was close. The feeling in my cock told me I was nearing my apex too. Feeling that scrunched up denim skirt against my stomach really got me going. I kissed every bit of exposed skin that lay in my line of vision. I worshipped her chest from her beautiful nipples up to her neckline. She played with my hair a lot and kept me head extremely close to her.

I pumped her hard. Her little moans coupled my rapid jerks. I was going to explode. "I-I-I'M starting to cum Mrs Swanson!!!!!!" With that I filled her box with my creamy white filling. She let out a primal scream as we held each other in embrace. I pulled out of her. There we both stood sweaty and dripping cum from our love makers.

Even with all that, I didn't have a proper release in her. I voiced this to her. "You know I still have more to give."

"That's ok, I have just the spot for you." I thought she was going to let me cream on her face or breasts, but instead she did something different. She lowered her skirt and fixed it up nice. She spread out nice and gave me the green light. I stroked my rocket one more time and uneven streams marked up the denim. I couldn't believe I was destroying her wonderful skirt like I was, but it was the most erotic thing I'd done today (next to fucking her of course). By the time I was finished the fabric was completely debased. There was one huge stain in the middle of it. From afar it might've looked like Rachel soiled herself but in close proximity it was unmistakable.

We both tended to our appearances. She fixed her blouse and combed her hair with her hand. I pulled up my jeans and once again locked up my cock with droplets of cum in tow. She spoke to me. "Okay, I'll go out first. You wait a few minutes and then come out."

"Wait, you're going out like that?!"

She wasn't moved by my perplexity. Instead she put on a sly little grin. "Yeah, why not?" Then she opened the door and made her exit.

As per her instructions, I followed after her after about 3 minutes later. I finally saw that the bags I originally was looking for were conveniently placed beside the door so I took them. I had no idea how I missed them to begin with. I handed them to my mother who commented on my distressed appearance and my elongated absence. I fabricated the excuse that it was like a sauna in that labyrinth of a garage.

I scoured through all the bodies for her. Where was this woman? Had she disappeared? I couldn't see her anywhere in the yard so I went back to our seats. Her purse was gone. So was her food. So she HAD made her exit after all. Apparently she had left something for me however. Her plate was flipped over with a message in red lipstick written on the back. I picked it up to read it. "SEE YOU AROUND JACKY."

I was sad that she was apparently gone but I just had to smile at the gesture. I turned the plate around only to read another message! "PS HOPE YOU ENJOY THE GIFT" Then I saw a pair of panties, her panties, on the chair. I quickly scooped them up so that nobody saw. I briefly sniffed them stuffed them into my jean pocket. As I pondered how this woman got her panties off in broad daylight in the middle of a barbeque, I just reassured myself that Mrs. Rachel Swanson was truly something else.