Mrs Westons Newspapers

Benny's Paper Round

When I returned from touring interstate in my campervan, the garden had welcomed me home by showing off its weeds and over-growth of grass where flowers and vegetables could normally have been seen from the back door leading to the yard.

I thought the garden could wait a little longer. There were plenty of other things I had to occupy my limited leisure time. To begin, there was wear and tear on my campervan to attend to and my bills and laundry seemed to be a little higher in terms of priority. So I left it to get worse over the next three months.

I became busy over the following weeks and the garden naturally deteriorated even more. Having a cup of coffee outside, I took a detailed look at the details of garden neglect and tried to imagine what sort of approach would clear the mess up and dispose of it, and what space in my daily timetable would be best to begin making a difference.

As more procrastination time passed, my daily routine became filled and I could not for the life of me, find which part of my daily routine could be changed during daylight hours, so I could begin to attend to the growing jungle in my back yard.

I was up early one morning and out on my front lawn to collect my daily newspaper. The bulletin came flying over the front fence and Benny Mitchell, the boy living four houses further along Neville Street was pushing an old pram full of newspapers along the path.

'Hello Benny,' I said to him.

'G'day Mrs Weston.'

'I had no idea you were doing the newspaper delivery on this round.'

'It's a bit of pocket money while I'm studying. I enjoy the early mornings.'

'Have fun Benny.'

He smiled and gave a polite wave and continued along the street. I watched him continue along the path and was surprised at how he had grown. Benny had turned into a strapping young man of 19 with the almost black/brown eyes and a shock of thick black hair.

I returned inside to my kitchen and decided to take breakfast out into the back yard to enjoy while I read the paper on such a sunny morning.

After breakfast, I set to work examining the internet for any new customers that might be able to use my services. I was running two small businesses and as a sole proprietor, there was never enough time, never enough market research done and always never enough paying customers. To think I was solving other peoples' problems and adding to my own was one of the absurd situations many self-employed find themselves in. That I was scrabbling a decent living was down more to luck than anything else.

Over the next few weeks, I found myself on the front lawn as Benny walked past with his homemade trolley. I would greet him each morning making polite conversation for a short moment. It was during breakfast that the idea occurred to me to offer him a chance to earn some more money if he had time and would agree to tidy my back yard over a two-week span. I thought it would take about 24 hours labour.

I asked him the next day if he had spare time to earn some extra money. His lecture timetable meant he could do between 4 and 8 hours a week depending on his work load at college.

'I would appreciate that Mrs. Weston. Can I call back after my deliveries this morning and try and sort something out?' he asked as he was preparing to deliver his next paper.

'Sure Benny. I'll leave the front door open so you can just come in when you're free.'

'See you soon Mrs Weston'

About 45 minutes later, there was a polite knock at the door and Benny stood there.

'Hello, Benny. Come in.'

I led him through the house and out into the yard where I had some cold drinks waiting and we sat at the outside furniture.

'Look around the yard for a minute Benny. The place looks like Tarzan lives here somewhere. For all I know he does.'

Benny looked around at the mess that was my formerly manageable garden. He noticed a few flowers trying to display themselves through the overgrown grass and a bewildering array of growth hiding whatever else might be struggling to get sustenance from the soil. We talked for a few minutes about his study and some of his interests before he returned to the reason for his visit

'You want the weeds removed. Is there anything I need to know about what you want left Mrs Weston?'

'There is. When I first started growing garlic and spring onions, I didn't know what the growing plant looked like and I removed them as weeds. So there is a little plant recognition needed. So far I have used them as companion plants, so when you see one, there is something else planted within 20 - 30 centimetres of it. I can help you with that when we start. I'm assuming you're available for this. What do you think Benny?'

'It looks fairly straight forward to me. Is there anything else you need done out here?'

'Once the yard is cleaned up and recognisable for what I originally intended and any jungle creatures returned to the zoo, I want the weeds eradicated on an overgrown brick path. I want to build a low barrier along either side to separate the walkway from the garden. I'm open to ideas on that one.'

'When would you like me to start? I have three hours available three times a week between study commitments. I'm available on Tuesday Wednesday and Friday. There is occasionally time at weekends depending on time partying and recovering.'

'That sounds good Benny. Would you like to start on Tuesday next week?'

'Thanks, Mrs Weston. I'm free at half past nine in the morning. '

'Perfect. I'll see you then.'

WE began our work on a chilly morning with spring approaching. Benny was a diligent worker and our first job was to clear a spot in the middle of the yard for a picnic area or somewhere to lie out in the sunshine when weather permitted. I rolled out the mower and Benny was able to start it with a few adjustments. It was a relief to me as I never seemed to get it right and spent more time trying to start it than I spent using it.

I watched him through the kitchen window as he began mowing the thick overgrown grass and he appeared to push the machine through, overcoming the resistance of the grass with ease. It had always been a struggle for me, even with the lawn only a little overgrown.

Six square metres were created in a short time and while I prepared drinks and some cookies, bringing them out as Benny placed the cuttings in a compost bin. We sat at the outdoor table and talked about his study course and the demands it put on his time.

'I'm fairly well organised,' he explained. 'Some of the others seem to be in party mode the whole time but I wouldn't be able to keep pace if I didn't work to a timetable.'

He smiled at me and I could feel something, which I dismissed looking away quickly. My telephone rang at that moment cutting short what was quickly becoming a moment of fascination. Reluctantly, I answered my phone, walking away from the table and returning two minutes later. Benny restarted the mower and tidied up the edges while I removed the tray of glasses, taking them back into the house.

As I returned to the yard, Benny was wheeling the mower along the path towards the shed it was kept in.

'Show me these plants to make sure I know what to leave in the ground Mrs Weston,' he said.

It took me a moment to find one and a growing lump of thick bright green grass.

'Look here, Benny. This is garlic. I use it as a companion plant so there will be another different plant somewhere close. If you're not sure, rub the blade between your fingers and you can smell this beautiful faint garlic smell. Pull the weeds around this and look here, there's a tomato plant nearby.'

'Got it. I might start the clearing by isolating them first.'

He smiled at me as he found the next one. This time I smiled back at him. Why was such a thrill going through me?

'While we're at it, you might like to see what spring onions look like when they start growing,' I said.

Somehow emboldened, I took his hand and led him to a corner of the garden where some mature plants were growing with some of the younger ones amongst them.

'It looks like grass, Mrs Weston.'

'If we lose some, they start themselves up without any help once the seeds start dropping. I'll be harvesting the mature ones soon for my own cooking. Why don't we use them for part of a slap up dinner to celebrate the job when we finish Benny?'

'Sounds like a plan.'

I had just asked this boy less than half my age for a date. I startled myself with the realisation. I hoped he wouldn't laugh at me but I would laugh back if he did.

In the past, I have mistaken shyness for snobbishness, feeling judged, implied criticism, and other things that were in the end, part of my own insecurity, so some time ago, I resolved to leave that kind of projection submerged until I got to know a person better. Benny sounded non-committal with his reply, so I left it as a possibility.

Over the next few visits, he always greeted me the same way with a cheerful, 'Hi Mrs Weston,' when I answered the door to his knock.

I walked ahead of him through the house to the back door. Each time he called to continue his work, I wore something slightly more revealing. The weather was getting warmer as spring progressed.

I began by wearing a pair of skin-tight leotards with a loose top that I wore for Pilates and yoga. The next week I greeted him at the door in a short yellow dress with black stockings and suspenders that would be seen if the dress was twirled around or was caught by a breeze. I was on my way out when he arrived and returned when he was ready to leave.

Then I wore a light lemon polo top and a pair of white short shorts where the swell of my buttocks were showing but more-so when I bent down, which I was doing in the yard when I was hanging out washing. I bent down to reach for clothes from the laundry basket, and again when I needed pegs.

I saw Benny's reflection watching me in the kitchen window as I pegged the clothes to the line. I guess I took a little longer than I really needed to. I liked being admired, and if it was by a man, young enough to be my son, I didn't mind at all.

I wasn't sure but I thought I saw him adjusting his Khaki shorts. Was he becoming aroused by the distant sight of my arse? I began to think it might be time to get more personal, maybe even a little familiar with the young gardener.

He was a strongly built young man, around 189 centimetres and probably still growing. His wide shoulders made everything he did seem effortless and he displayed unselfconscious confidence.

If I'm not mistaken, he appeared to be gifted with a penis that occupied plenty of space in his shorts. He would never be able to conceal its shape from anyone who cared to look at his private anatomy, even through his clothes. For a male of his age, that would add to his confidence.

I returned to the house carrying the empty laundry basket, and came back out a moment later with a tray of drinks and a few cookies.

'Do you have time for a cold drink Benny?' I asked him, setting the tray on a picnic blanket on the section of cut grass. 'We can have it on the lawn. I'll get some glasses. I'll be back in a moment.'

I waited until he was sitting and then returned with two glasses, and I managed to bring out a chocolate covered cookie. I sat beside him with my ankles crossed and my knees wide apart. From his vantage point, he could see the hollow on the inside of both my thighs.

When he'd finished his cold fruit juice drink, I said, 'I have a surprise for you Benny. Close your eyes and open your mouth.'

He closed his eyes and said, 'What's this?'

'It won't bite. C'mon. Open up.'

I placed the chocolate cookie in his mouth, and he apprehensively tasted it.

'Mmmm! I love chocolate. Thanks Mrs Weston.'

He dropped some crumbs on his shorts and I lightly brushed them off. I thought I could feel the alarmingly large shape of his penis through his shorts.

I left my hand on his knee for a moment.

'The yard's looking better all the time. You're doing a good job Benny.'

'Thanks Mrs Weston. We can start on the path tomorrow. I'll put the tools away,' he said.

He looked away into the garden. I removed my hand and picked up the tray and empty glasses, and stood up and walked back into the house.

As he came to the back door I opened it for him and took his hand at the front door. I stood on my toes, leant against him with my whole body, and kissed him on the cheek with my hand lightly holding the back of his head, not one of those lean forward and peck kisses you see among school friends. He flushed brightly.

I stood back to get a better look at him and asked, 'Will I see you here tomorrow Benny?'

'Yes Mrs Weston. I'll be here at Half past 9. 'Bye for now.'

I watched him walk to his pushbike and ride away. It was at that moment that I made the connection between him and his father Doran Mitchell. He had a similar gait to his father, and watching him triggered all the old memories to come flooding back.

Ben's father Doran was someone from my earlier life who swept me off my feet. As he was a high achiever, it was the aim of many of the girls in the small town I came from to try and get his attention. He seemed to take a shine to me and at the time I was thrilled to be the one most likely to end up with him.

We had been seeing each other and dating regularly when he was 24 and I was 18. At that stage he seemed like an older man to me, which I have to admit, made me feel a little more worldly than I really was.

I guess I was the envy of a number of my friends and acquaintances to be picked up and taken to concerts and other nice places in one or other of several cars from his father's collection.

For 18 months we dated seriously and I began to feel we were a settled couple. We hadn't spoken about any future plans together. I guess I was in no hurry. I was simply enjoying his company and making the most of what was my youth with the most eligible to marry person I knew.

Even though I was not expecting a proposal of marriage, Doran became abruptly too busy for what had become our regular dates. It was some time before I connected it to the arrival in town of a family who had moved to the area from a mining community in a northern region of the country.

At first Doran was seen dining out with a group of people which included 16 year old twins Eden and Julian Roberts from the family of recent arrivals. Doran was captured by Eden's strawberry blonde hair and her large breasts which she failed miserably to keep hidden.

The new girl in town became a challenge for Doran. He had to be seen to be the first to get a date with her. He was my first serious boyfriend and had been fucking me for over a year, and as far as I knew, exclusively. His five-inch penis seemed to be a nice ride, but I had heard somewhere that his size was at the smaller end of average. This made me wonder what a larger one would feel like, but I was in no hurry as both of us seemed to be enjoying the physical side of our relationship well enough.

But when this little siren caught his attention, he made no further effort to see me or talk to me. Within twelve months they were engaged and I was broken hearted, depressed and disillusioned. I found out later that they were engaged for nearly another four years. Doran moved pretty quickly when he had a conquest in his sights, but slowed the pace when it came to making any commitment. I heard he sewed a few more wild oats in the years before and since he married Eden nee McCoy. Apparently it was another two years before Benny was born. I must have been 27 by that time.

When all that died down, I was angry, mostly because he had done it without a word to me. I thought that one day I would ask him what had happened to us, but in an environment where it would be on my terms. I had revenge in mind.

As more time passed, I began to feel he had done me a huge favour. I felt fortunate I had not had to put up with his secrecy and deceit.

I remembered my resolve to score some points back from the man who didn't have the guts to tell me it was over those two decades ago.

But that had long faded. Now my main focus was his son Benny's next visit the following day. My feelings were carnal, and I thought Benny was receptive, but I wasn't quite sure. The uncertainty had me living on a keen edge for the rest of the day.

I found I was frequently getting wet between my legs and had to change my nickers a few times. There were only three or four days before the work would be finished.

Next morning, Benny was punctual, as usual. He immediately began clearing the weeds from the path and on either side. I wore an old pair of denim shorts that had seen better days. They were torn around the bottom of each leg with white stringy cottons hanging down and horizontal tears at different heights showing generous portions of my buttocks. I also wore an old white blouse with a few buttons missing. With the light breeze cooling me off on a warm spring morning, my blouse would billow open showing Benny an occasional glimpse of one of my tight swollen nipples.

He had prepared the path for any modifications.

He called to me asking, 'What do you think Mrs Weston?'

'I'm open to ideas Benny. Do you have anything in mind?'

'I have. You have a pile of bricks near the fence. There are enough to widen the path by one brick for the length of the path. Only one side needs to be modified and the edge will straighten to fit your new garden barrier in pretty easily.'

'That makes a lot of sense.'

We talked about a few of the details and some possible solutions.

I stood close to him and said, 'I like the idea, Benny. You've done very well. Thank you.'

I turned to him stood on my toes, put my arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips, sliding my mouth left and right on his for five long seconds, letting my breasts touch him lightly enough for him to feel me through his shirt. I really wanted to feel my skin on his. It took all my resolve not to rip open both our shirts so I could feel his bare chest against my aroused tits.

I pulled away from him for a moment, caught my breath and said, 'I'll bring out come cookies and a cold drink. I'll be back in a few seconds.

I walked back inside wriggling my behind for him to see. Once inside, I could see him through the kitchen window. His shorts were down around his knees with his hand in his jocks moving his considerable cock into a more comfortable position. Placing it to one side along the top of his leg, he pulled up his shorts to modestly cover his obscenely large cock, and waited for me to reappear with drinks and cookies.

I carried out the tray with refreshments in one hand and rolled up a picnic blanket with the other hand and placed the tray on the ground.

'Help me unroll this picnic blanket please Benny.'

He took it off me and flicked it out flat in one action.

'Good work,' I said placing the drinks on the edge of the blanket.

He quickly drank a glass of ginger beer, and I sat in the middle of the blanket. I was getting into a fever of carnal desire for this young man, and I thought he might respond, but my uncertainty prevented me from making any advance toward him.

Finally after a long silence, I decided to take a chance. I loosened the buttons on my old shirt and lay back on the blanket next to him with my eyes closed, fully aware that the breeze blowing my shirt open to fully expose my breast to his sight.

'Benny, do you know what I do on sunny days like this now that you've prepared this lawn space? I lie out here and get a few moments of sunshine. You would be welcome to join me if you have the time.'

'Thank you, Mrs Weston. That would be nice.'

I knew in that moment, I had to find a way to get him to show me his cock. I had almost nothing else on my mind for the last few weeks. Getting that glimpse of it through the back window, only made me more determined.