Mr. Peterson, or Mr. P for short, had been my neighbor for more than twenty years. He was in his late sixties but you wouldn't have known it by looking at him. He and I always had a good relationship even though, when I was married, he and my ex-husband seemed to irritate each other at times. His wife had died some years back, before my ex and I had divorced, and he admittedly found himself very lonely and depressed at times. I took it upon myself to go over and provide him with some occasional companionship and just make sure he was doing ok. My ex didn't like that I was spending time over at Mr. Ps house. He would always tell me to quit playing nursemaid to that old white man. I'd just shake my head and give him a, 'you're a jackass' look and he'd walk away and leave me be.
After I shed the dead weight of my husband, Mr. P repaid my kindness by helping me out with my kids. My work schedule made it impossible for me to pick them up after school so he stepped in and helped me out. They would stay with him a couple hours every evening until I got home from work. My kids grew to love and respect him as one would a grandfather. The years passed, my kids grew up and went off to college, leaving me an empty nester. I didn't have many friends or hobbies so I spent most of my spare time with Mr. P or at home wrapped up with a good book. During a span of about a year and a half my neighbor and I really got to know each other well. We'd sit around, talk, or watch television for hours and eventually developed a real father/daughter relationship.
It wasn't until I discovered how sexually starved I was that our relationship became strained. I was so horny that I devised a plan to seduce my yardman into fucking me. My plan worked to perfection and after a ten-year sexual drought, he spent an entire Saturday afternoon beating my pussy into submission, and submit I did. That encounter marked the first time, of what would be many, that anyone had given me a good fucking. Sure, I had three kids, so obviously I had had sex before. But, what we had that afternoon wasn't just sex, it was an afternoon marathon of orgasms. That day changed me drastically and initiated me into the cock lovers club. Cock became my crack, I craved it 24-7 and the more I got, the more I needed. Through my yardman, I was able to meet other guys and soon had a steady supply of cock to keep my horny cunt somewhat cooled down. There were times when I'd have 2 or 3 guys over at once. They'd have me stuffed with cock and squealing like a pig. Because of my newfound love I was spending less time with Mr. P and had actually started avoiding him. There was no doubt in my mind that he knew why I had such a sudden influx of male visitors, and I was shame to face him.
As to be expected, the day finally came that I had to face Mr. P. It was Christmas season and my kids were coming home for a visit. Therefore I decided to put up the Christmas tree and decorate the house. I had a rare evening when I wasn't expecting any guest so I figured that would be the perfect time. When I arrived home I started gathering all my decorations, when I realized that my tree was in the attic. My son had stored it there some time back and I knew I wouldn't be able to get it down. I contemplated calling one of my friends but I knew that would only lead to a fuckfest, and I'd never get anything done. My only other option was to summon up the courage to walked over to Mr. Ps' and ask for help. So I did, I rang the bell and he came to the door with a huge smile on his face. "Hello stranger" he said, and invited me in. I immediately went into the reason for my coming over, trying not to give him a chance to start questioning me. I informed him of my dilemma and he was more than happy to assist me. "Sure" he said, "let me slip on some shoes and I'll be right over." I was a bit taken by his chipper spirit, I really expected him to be upset or at least showing signs of disappointment. At any rate I had gotten away without getting an ear full and began to wonder if he even suspected what I had been doing.
Mr. P met me in the garage, I handed him a flashlight and he headed up the ladder. He was wearing a pair skimpy loose fitting shorts. He would normally lounge around the house in those but I had never seen him outside with them on. As he reached the top of the ladder he turned to take a seat on the top step. When he did, two of the biggest balls I'd ever seen came tumbling from the leg of his shorts. My chin almost hit the floor; I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Mr. P was obviously unaware that he was hanging out because he was shining the flashlight around in the attic and made no attempt to cover himself. I was embarrassed; this was a man that I looked to as a father figure and I had no business seeing what I was seeing. I was shame also, because I found myself enjoying the view. There was a part of me that wanted to climb that ladder and run my hot tongue up and down his swollen balls. Mr. P yelled down to me that he had found the tree. He turned and disappeared into the attic. Minutes later he returned to the top of the ladder with the tree box and maneuvered to slide it down to me. As fate would have it, he sat down on the top step again so that he could ease the box down to me. From the bottom of the stairs I was looking straight up between his legs and his huge balls had fallen out again and were dangling almost touching the step below. All I could think was 'WOW, he must have years and years of cum built up in there for them to be so big'. My pussy was moist and lust was setting in. I was hungry for this man I had looked up to for so many years. If he didn't already think I was a slut, he surely would if he caught me drooling at the sight of his balls. I tried to suppress my feelings and get my thoughts back to the task at hand.
We got the tree down and I was relieved to be removed from such a tempting situation. Mr. P offered to stick around and help me decorate. He never questioned me about my visitors or my sudden absence from his life. We had been at it for about an hour and were just about finishing up. I was on the stepladder putting the star at the top of the tree. Mr. P stood below holding me around my midsection trying to keep me steady as I reached to place the final ornament. I was also dressed rather revealing in an old pair of jogging shorts that my ex had left behind. I often wore them around the house because they were big and comfortable. I never wore panties underneath; in fact I never wore panties around the house at all. I ended up on the very top step in my attempt to finish our little project. The more I stretched the lower Mr. Ps hands dropped till I felt him squeezing my ass. I wanted to believe that the firm grip he had on my ass was an innocent attempt to keep me balanced on the ladder. However, even though I was unable to confirm it, I had a suspicion that he had pushed my shorts to the side enough that he could get a peek at my pussy. I quickly put the thought out of my mind and began rationalizing his behavior. I kept telling myself that there's no way Mr. P would ever make a sexual advance towards me. It was just coincidental, and his squeezing my ass had more to do with steadying me on the ladder than any sexual motive. I tried to convince myself of these things because if they weren't true and he actually had aspirations of fucking me, I knew I would not be able to resist. How would that affect our relationship in the future?