All participants are 18 years old or above. Although this series is based on actual experience, all names and places have been changed. I have written these as I remember them albeit it was forty years ago - they were wonderful times.
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"Dan, you promised you would do this. Please don't let Trish down."
"OK Mum," I called back down the stairs, "I'll leave in 15 minutes."
I got up from my bed, took a look in my wardrobe and grabbed an old T-shirt, jeans and my shabby thick green jumper. Quickly getting dressed, I then made my way downstairs and into the kitchen.
"I've got your thick socks here," Mum said whilst visually checking me over, "You'll need them if it rains. Also there are some spare clothes in the Waitrose bag. What time do you think you will be back?"
I looked up at the clock on the wall "It's now 12.45 so I will get to Trish's by one o'clock. It will take me about four hours to do all the lawns so I should be home about 5.30 if all goes well."
"OK," Mum replied, "But give me a call if you are going to be late. I have to be at the Bridge club at 8 o'clock so I will be leaving about 7.30."
I sat down on a stool, put on my socks and trainers, then grabbing the bag and a banana from the fruit bowl on the breakfast bar, I made my way out into the garage. Part of the deal was that I could use her car to go the 3 miles to Trish's house if I did this favor for her.
I got in the car, pressed the controller for the garage door, and reversed out into the October sunshine. On the short drive I thought about how I had come to be working for one of Mum's friends - a member of what I had loosely labelled 'The Golf Widows Club'.
This group consisted of up to 10 ladies who I had seen at my house on more than one occasion - normally at lunch time or the early afternoon - who seemed to spend the whole afternoon drinking wine ( a helluva lot of wine ) and talking. When this club was in session at our house, I would retreat to my bed room and avoid contact at all costs, especially after one of this club, Sheila, had walked in on me in the upstairs bathroom whilst I was having a piss. It was my first contact with one of the 'Club', but it definitely was not the last.
Having made me jump when she bowled into the bathroom, I had quickly shoved my dick into my jogging bottoms and rushed out of the bathroom. As I exited rapidly I heard, "Mmmm - nice cock," in a barely audible voice.
As I had made my way back to my room, I thought to myself that I must be imagining things. Sheila was at least 50 years old and happily married to one of my Dad's golfing buddies - they had two daughters that were older than me. This was actually my first contact with a MILF, but at the time I did not realize it.
Now I was going to be a freelance gardener for one of the 'Club' when I had much better things I could be doing (or so I thought ).
I pulled into the driveway of the mock Tudor house and parked up near the front door. Obviously Trish had heard my car in the drive, because by the time I got to the front door, it was already open. I walked up to the door and I have to say my jaw dropped. This lady was gorgeous! Dressed in a pink cashmere sweater with a low cut cleavage and tight black leather trousers, she looked absolutely stunning. She had long blonde hair tied up in a pony tail, and her make-up looked perfect. A gorgeous smile was on her face as she ushered me inside.
"Come in," she cooed, "I will get you the key to the garden shed."
She turned inside and I followed her, hoping she would turn not her head as I watched her gorgeous ass cheeks as she walked down the hallway. I could feel the first stirrings of an erection and my mind was racing. Surely she had not dressed like this for me? Even the pink stiletto shoes were sexy.
"Here we are," she said, picking up a set of keys from a tray on a table halfway down the hall. The table was no higher than a footstool and as she bent over I got a wonderful view of her ass cheeks straining against the tight leather material. This was insane. Here I was, an 18 year old boy with strong hormones and I was almost immobilized by this view.
"The shed is round the side of the house," she said, rising up and handing me the keys.
"Do the front first and then when I hear you getting to the back, I will bring you out a mug of tea."
I took the keys and almost sprinted out of the front door, my mind in a total meltdown. I opened the shed and got out the lawnmower. Soon I was starting the mower up and before I knew it the front lawn was nearly done.As I completed the front and moved to the back garden, I had calmed down enough to convince myself that my imagination was running riot. I was just here to do a favour because Trish's husband was away on business, nothing more. This sort of thing that I was imagining was just fantasy, the sort of thing that you read about in Penthouse or Mayfair magazine (this was 1975 after all).
On turning the mower up into the back garden I noticed that the sky had darkened and the temperature was getting decidedly chilly. The promised mug of tea would really be appreciated. Just after I had started in the back, a door opened and out came Trish with what looked like a flask.
"It's getting cold out here," she remarked as she approached me, "You will need this to keep warm." As she spoke, a sharp gust of wind blew across us and I couldn't help but notice how her nipples had become very visible through her sweater. I quickly tried to look away from these hardening buds but as I moved my head up, the smirk on her face told me that she had seen my gaze.
"Try not not to be too long," she said as she walked back to the door. I watched that gorgeous ass all the way until the door shut and then quickly drank down the tea from the flask. It had a slightly odd taste, but I didn't think twice about it. Boosted by the warmth that this gave me, I quickly got through mowing the back lawn until with two stripes left to mow - the heavens opened. By the time I had finished and put the mower back in the shed, I was drenched. I rushed round to the front door and rang the bell, hoping that Trish would have a couple of towels that I could use.
She opened the door and observed me with a look of horror on her face.
"Get in here now!" she yelled, "I thought you had taken cover in the shed before the rain had started."
"I wanted to get it finished," I replied meekly, "I didn't want to leave it not done - Mum would really have a go at me if I left you disappointed."
"Well, we'll see about that," she retorted, "Now stand on the mat and don't move - I'll be back in a minute."
Trish bent down and pulled off her shoes before running up the stairs at the end of reception area. She came running back about a minute later with some white towels and a towelling robe,
"Strip off everything!" she ordered, passing the towels to me.
"Don't worry - I won't look."
I frowned at her, but the stern look on her face told me that I better obey, so I started to remove my sweater
"Come on - hurry up! You'll catch your death in those wet things."
"You sound just like my Mum," I replied.
She laughed and then turned, facing away from me.
"Drop all your wet clothes on the floor and put on that robe. I'll take you up so you can have a shower."
I quickly shrugged off my wet things and stepped into the robe, noting it had a Hilton Hotel motif on the front. Very posh I thought.
