Helping Sharon

The Baxters are the family next door. They've lived there for ever but I'd been expecting them to sell up and downsize. They had raised five children in that house and it was quite large. Once all the children were married and gone it just made sense that they'd sell and take a smaller place, one easier to maintain.

It didn't quite work out that way. Sharon, the last and youngest of the Baxters, finally got married and went off on her honeymoon. When she came back she and her brand new husband moved straight into the Baxter house. Apparently they'd decided to pay her parents board while they save up for a place of their own. Smart thinking when you consider the costs of living on your own.

Both the Baxters worked, Sharon also had a part time job, and her husband had a full time job. This did leave Sharon with time on her hands but, fortunately, she had a lot of friends in the area. (Me being one of them.)

I was several years older than Sharon and spent a lot of time with her brothers when we were growing. I still saw them every so often and I guess you could say I was more their friend than Sharon's but she considered me one.

I should make it clear that I'd never dated Sharon. She was just my friends' sister and as such had no romantic appeal. (Okay, I'll admit that she was pretty and had a damn fine figure, so there was certainly some lust appeal, but this was balanced by the 'my friends sister' bit.)

One thing I'd noticed since Sharon returned from her honeymoon was that she was more aware of herself as a woman. Prior to getting married she'd been sweetly naïve, another reason to keep any incipient lust under control. Now she was aware of what's what. She didn't flaunt her body but she sure dressed in more adult styles, showing more cleavage than she used to, not that I was objecting. She certainly had the breasts for it.

A couple of weeks after Sharon had returned from her honeymoon I had a half day off. She must have seen me coming home as she came wandering over, banging on the back door and coming in. This was not unusual. She and her siblings had been doing something similar ever since they learned to toddle far enough to escape their own yard.

"What're you doing Mick?" she asked. "Why aren't you at work?"

"I've got a half day off," I replied. "I do get them occasionally."

We chatted for a while and I finally asked, "Why the long face?"

The reason I asked was that she looked a little despondent.

"Oh, it's just that some of us were going to go to the club this afternoon but it turns out that I can't go."

"Why not?"

"No money. What I have has to go for board and such and there's nothing left over. Maybe a couple of dollars but that's nothing."

"Well, you don't have to spend any money at the club. Just use your couple of bucks to buy a drink and spend the rest of your time socialising."

"Ha! With all the others playing pokies? I'd look cheap not to play a few games but if I use the board money I'd be in deep doo-doo."

"Just leave your purse at home. Then you can excuse your non-playing as due to that. They'll understand."

"Yeah, and lend me some money to play with which I'd feel bound to accept, and then I'd lose it and have to repay it out of the rent money and hullo deep doo-doo."

I nodded thoughtfully. One of the things that I was considering so thoughtfully was the very nice cleavage she was currently showing. I could see the lacy edges of a yellow bra, me being somewhat taller than her and just naturally looking down.

"So your options are don't go, which you don't want to do but are resigned to, use some of the rent money, which you are smart enough to reject out of hand, or acquire a small stake for the pokies through some other means. I have an idea whereby you can get yourself a quick fifty."

"What? You do not."

"Yeah, I do," I said softly, stroking a finger along her cleavage, feeling the softness of her breasts. "Just a little healthy exercise, just between you and me and you're on your way to the club with the rent money safe and a little spending money in your hand."

She was staring at me with wide eyes, not quite sure if she believed what I was saying. She hadn't pushed my finger away from her breasts though and I could see her nipples were causing her top to tent a little.

"I couldn't do that," she protested. "You're suggesting I go to bed with you. I've never done that sort of thing with anyone but Brian."

"Who's talking about a bed?" I asked with a wicked smile. "Right here would be fine. Haven't you experimented outside the bedroom?"

"No, of course not. Why would we?"

"Why wouldn't you is more the question in my opinion. Variety is the spice of life and all that."

She looked around the kitchen, seeing as that was where we happened to be.

"You want to have sex with me here? In the kitchen?" She sounded scandalised.

"Actually, I just want to have sex with you," I admitted. "The where is irrelevant but seeing we're here, why not?"

She started dithering, not wanting to say yes but also not wanting to lose the fifty. I just kept a gentle smile on my face.

"Tell you what," I said. "I'll just take off a few things and we'll see how things progress from there. You can always call a halt at any time."

With that I flicked open the next button on her blouse, displaying a little more cleavage. Her head was tilted down, watching as I slowly flicked her buttons open, her face flushed. With the buttons undone I eased her blouse free from her skirt. I didn't try to take it off, just moved the sides apart, showing off her tummy and bra.

I talked softly, complimenting her on her looks, her smooth skin, the shapeliness of her breasts, how pretty her bra was and how well it suited her. While talking I was also touching. Not groping her, but letting mu fingertips brush lightly against her flesh. I also managed to unclip her skirt and lower the zip. Again, I didn't try to take it off, just letting it sag a little, leaning to one side and exposing part of her panties, panties the same lacy yellow as her bra.

I didn't need to take her skirt off. I guess she found the way it hung an irritant because she reached for it and pushed, letting it slide down her legs. I, of course, took the opportunity to compliment her on those legs and how smooth they felt.

It was just natural for my fingertips to glide across her lower tummy, drop below her panties and do some further gliding over her upper thighs. I mean, how could I compliment their silky texture if I wasn't touching them.

As she'd dropped her skirt it seemed worthwhile to take the chance to take her blouse right off, dropping it on the kitchen table. Apart from blushing a lot when I stepped back a little and ran my eyes over her in a most blatant fashion she didn't protest or say anything. A few more compliments and then I explained I really wanted to see her breasts.

She swallowed nervously but didn't stop me unhooking her bra and removing it. I cupped her breasts and teased her nipples for a few moments. Dropping my hands to her waist I leaned forward and sucked on each breast in turn, taking advantage of the distraction to push her panties down.

Standing back again, once more blatantly looking at her nude figure, I undid my trousers, pushing them down. I had an erection (oh boy, did I ever) and Sharon's eyes opened a little wider when she observed it. They stayed open, with her looking a little shocked when I moved her hand and closed it over said erection. Her hand closed almost spasmodically, but she kept it closed, holding onto me.

Seeing that she was now touching me intimately I thought that it was only fair that I returned the favour. It was sort of funny to watch her reactions. When I nibbled on her breasts and caressed them she just blushed and seemed to enjoy it. When my hand wandered downstairs and caressed her much more intimately she looked positively shocked. Her grip on my erection also tightened somewhat.

I took it slowly, feeing her arousal building. She was hot and wet and breathing hard when I finally decided to move things up a notch. A notch, hell. I was going to move things up a whole bunch of notches.

I extracted my cock from her grip, and it wasn't easy. She seemed to really want to hold on. After that I eased her back so she leaning back against the table, moving between her thighs and pushing them further apart.

"Look down," I told her. "I want you to watch as I enter."

"W-why?"

"I just do. Haven't you ever watched before?"

She shook her head.

"I've never even thought about doing that," she mumbled.

I stroked her lips, teasing them, watching them pout, asking for attention. I spread them further apart, moving into place so the head of my cock was now pressing against the entrance to her passage. Releasing her lips they promptly closed around me with Sharon giving a small gasp. Then I started pressing home.

For some reason she didn't press back at this stage. She did, however, keep her eyes firmly on me, seeming to be fascinated by the way I was sinking into her. I pressed steadily in, finally sinking my full length into her. Then I pulled back, Sharon still watching as I did so.

Then I repeated the dose, slowly sliding fully home and then pulling right back. The difference this time was that Sharon pushed to meet me as I entered and seemed reluctant to let me withdraw.

I started thrusting into her, not going full pace as of yet, but building up a nice rhythm to which she was responding quite nicely. After a couple of minutes she was really entering into the spirit of things so I pulled right out.

She was shocked. She started babbling something, not knowing what to say, just trying to give me the message that I shouldn't have stopped. For answer I just turned her around, making her bend over the table. That done I thrust into her, this time with a lot more vigour, my arms circling her, my hands closing over her breasts.

Oh boy, did she ever react to that. She was squealing and bucking under me, wanting more and making sure that I knew it. As hard as I was thrusting in she wanted harder, faster, just plain more. I, being a true gentleman, did my best to give her what she wanted.

A few more minutes like this and that was enough for her. (For me, too.) She started giving eager little cries that were rapidly building up to a scream and I did my best to time it so that I ejaculated at about the same time as she screamed and climaxed, shuddering and shaking, clamping down on my poor old fella, milking it for all she was worth.

Once we separated she gave me a firm look.

"I cannot believe that you'd do something like that to me. You should be ashamed."

"Oh, I am, I am, but I'm not going to apologise as I enjoyed it far too much. You were marvellous, giving me something I'll remember for years to come."

Her face said she wasn't sure she believed me but apparently she decided that believing was the best thing to do.

"I am going to have a quick shower," she announced and darted off to the bathroom.

She came back dried and dressed and looking as demure as ever. I passed her a hundred and she looked genuinely startled.

"What?"

"I've seen you play the pokies before. You're bound to lose your fifty in short order. After that you can play with my fifty and as it's my money you'll probably win. You can split those winnings with me fifty/fifty. Just make sure you leave your rent money at home."

She didn't argue, just gleefully accepting the money. Then she was gone. I didn't seriously expect to get any return but what the hell. Let her have a little fun.

There was an odd result from that little episode. That evening Sharon came dancing over and calmly handed me eight hundred and fifty dollars.

"What the hell?" I asked.

"I spent my fifty, and then I spent your fifty. I gave one last spin to clear out my remaining credits and lights started flashing and bells started ringing and a loud voice announced that a special jackpot had just gone off. Would you believe it? Seventeen hundred dollars. I simply took it and went home. That's your half."

Well damn. What could I say to that? Simply thank you and pocketed the money.

"You enjoyed yourself then?"

"Oh, yes. It was great. The pokies were fun, too."

I blinked as she headed back home. She did not mean that the way it sounded. Surely not.