I guess I should start this story by introducing myself. I'm William, a rather average male in my early 20's. I wound up buying a house in a middle class neighborhood about a month ago (that's a different story), and have lived here for a few weeks now. I'm a firefighter, so I work a rotating shift schedule of one day on (24 hours), followed by two days off. Firefighters don't make a lot of money, so most of my co-workers work second or even third jobs. I don't have that problem, in fact I really don't have to work at all (part of that different story that I may tell later), but I'm simply not the type of person to sit around the house all day. I enjoy my job and it keeps me motivated to stay in good physical shape, but again I'm average in that respect as well. I'm six foot, weigh about 200 pounds, and have short dark hair and dark brown eyes. I'm not handsome, but not ugly. As I said, average.
The one thing about me that is unusual is my taste in woman. I don't go for younger women or even girls my own age. They simply do nothing for me. Oh, I enjoy looking at one as much as the next guy, but that's where it ends. I have always enjoyed older, mature woman. I like a woman who has lush curves, whose eyes speak of the experience they have they might be willing to share with you, who are naturally sexy without thinking about it or working hard at it.
I like a woman who doesn't have to fill the silence with annoying chatter all the time. Young girls talk constantly, and if they're not, they're playing on their phones or texting others. While I enjoy my cell phone as much as the next person, it's nice to look at a woman and have her look back at you rather then down at a screen.
I had been living in my neighborhood for a few weeks now, and one woman had particularly caught my eye. Tresa was a fiery Italian-ancestry female that was in her mid-forties. She was small, about 5 foot 4, had short dark hair, about a C cup on top, and a fine ass on the bottom. She would routinely mow her lawn on Saturdays, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching that fine ass on top of those tanned, smooth legs push that mower up and down her yard. She wore a pair of tight white shorts that just covered her fine ass, and a loose top. Her long, dark hair would be pulled up in a bun, exposing that slender neck.
Of course she was married, to a cheerful, rather overweight guy, who sometimes I would see outside working, but for the most part it seemed to be Tresa who was handling the yardwork. Of course I soon made a habit of being outside at the same time, cutting my grass or handling other chores! It certainly made the work go buy easier when I could look over and see that tight body parading around.
I soon realized that Tresa was by nature a very flirtatious women. She always made a point of waving at me, even coming over to my yard and commenting on it and her ideas for it. She always stood just a little closer then was just friendly, so close that I could catch a glimpse of that rather plain white bra and those two heavenly globes that it contained down the front of her loose shirt. If she noticed me looking at her chest she never said anything, or made an effort to cover up either. I soon grew used to reciprocating the favor, walking over and semi-ogling her, making small talk with her and her husband. He was fairly quiet, and I was a little surprised that he didn't keep his rather sexy wife on a tighter leash but who was I to complain?
This led to more touchy-feely moments, where I would take the time to rest my hand briefly on her shoulder or caress her softly above the top of her shirt collar on her back. She would reciprocate, often touching me on my arm or giving me one of those side hugs. Never once did she do anything to indicate the attention was unwanted. Instead, she made comments along the lines of she would have to come over and share a wine cooler with me some evening. Since her husband was home at night, I wondered about that a bit but never questioned it.
We also started talking in the mornings when she was on her way to work. She would often be leaving for work just after I was getting home, and she would stop and talk while I was getting my mail out of the mailbox. I'd lean down and talk to her through the passenger window. Unfortunately she was in some type of medical job that let her wear scrubs, which did nothing to show off that beautiful body underneath. However, it was nice to see her fully made up, with dark red lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara. She really was a very attractive woman.
We were mowing grass at the same time the next weekend and she waved at me, gesturing to come over and rest beneath the shade of a tree in her yard. I was glad to take her up on the invitation, and we sat there for several minutes, me enjoying those long legs spread out and her chest slightly pushed out, showing off her titties to full perfection. I know she noticed me moving around in an effort to conceal the massive hard on she was giving me, but she said nothing, and I could've sworn that she was turning me on deliberately. It made me nervous when her husband walked over, but he seemed oblivious to his wife's display of her charms and she ignored him totally, carrying on the innocuous conversation we were having about the weather lately. He didn't stay long and went back inside.
This behavior was explained the next time I walked out to get my mail after getting home and she was leaving for work. She pulled over and rolled her window down, and naturally I leaned over.
"Morning, William."
"Morning, Tresa. How are you doing this morning?"
"Okay, I guess." I could hear in her tone she was feeling a bit down.
"What's wrong?" She hemmed and hawed for a moment, but it soon all came pouring out. It turned out her husband was a drunk, coming home and drinking every night. He had even missed work a few times, and was becoming more and more difficult to live with. Saturday he'd been half plastered all day, and after coming outside when I had seen him had gone back inside and passed out on the sofa.
"He's not even paying attention to me in the bedroom anymore. I've talked to an attorney, and I'm thinking about getting a divorce.
"Tresa, I'm so sorry to hear that."
"Oh, I'm not sorry about him. Frankly I'm tired of him always being drunk and dealing with his sorry ass every night. I'm just a little lonely."
"Well, I'd be glad to keep you company one night!"
"Oh, William, you're so sweet! I'd like to meet someone but when I talked to my attorney he said if I had an affair and was caught, that it would cause a lot of problems during the divorce."
"Tresa, you don't deserve him. I've always thought how sweet and wonderful a woman you are, and I'm sorry that you're having this happen to you."
She smiled at me, those lips with that dark red lipstick she wore beckoning me, "Oh, William, you've always been so kind to me. You always make me feel so much better. Thank you!" She put out one tanned arm and touched my hand resting on the windowsill.
I covered her hand for a moment, smiling at her. "You're more than welcome! You deserve better!"
