Lawnmower Boy Ch. 01

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As a youngster growing up, once I reached puberty, I had the proverbial boyhood fantasies about sex, pretty much perpetually during my waking hours. Unfortunately, I never managed to actually experience one but I did nourish my fantasies.

As a youngster, I worked to make a little spending money for some of the niceties I wanted but that my parents couldn’t or wouldn’t afford and to accumulate a little bit of money for extras when I went to college. They always said I’d more appreciate what I had to earn. Most of that effort was in the form of yard work, cutting lawns, edge trimming, weeding flower beds, etc. I started this at about thirteen years of age and continued it until I graduated high school. As I got older and grew bigger, I did some painting, minor repairs and things of a general household maintenance nature. I even helped move furniture and appliances occasionally but the yard work was a constant that did not abate.

Most often, it seemed I was in contact with the woman of the house since I worked during the day while their husbands were at work, especially during the summer when I started about 7:30 or 8:00 AM. Although they frequently dressed in shorts and a blouse, their dress was modest by today’s standards.

Nonetheless, I did notice the distinctly feminine curves and of course that always fueled the fantasies of a pubescent teen male. I was frequently quite self-conscious about my erection which seemed to be perpetual. Fortunately, I suppose, I was not exceptionally well endowed so I was able to conceal the evidence of my youthful exuberance, for the most part. And if it was ever noticed, it went unmentioned.

While I had the usual fantasies involving girls around my age, I also fostered some rather ambitious fantasies about some of the women whose yards I tended and the mothers of a few friends. Most I’d guess were in their thirties and remained trim and attractive despite having been mother to two to four children.

On the occasions when I did manage to have them in sight as I worked, I attempted to be as subtle as possible in my looks and appraisals. I certainly didn’t want one of these ladies telling my mom I was staring and gawking at her body. That was a conversation I definitely did not want to have at home nor did I want to be confronted by one of them and especially not by a husband asking why I was spying on his wife.

As I worked one warm summer day, I was in the back yard of Mrs. Johnson’s house cutting the grass. She had been in the yard when I started and I noticed immediately the shorts and rather snug halter top she wore. Not remarkably different from other days, but the halter top seemed a bit smaller than others I’d seen her wear. Of course it titillated my youthful libido and fertile imagination.

She entered the house and I saw her through the kitchen window moving about and I supposed she was cleaning the kitchen. A few minutes later, she disappeared from the kitchen and I lost sight of her for several minutes. On my next pass toward the house, I caught the hint of movement through an open window away from the kitchen. Being careful not to be too obvious, I surveyed the window and saw Mrs. Johnson standing beside her bed with her back to the window.

My task took me away from the window for a couple of minutes and as I again approached, she was untying the halter top. I noticed the shorts were gone and I could see her panties covering her lovely round behind. As I made my turn following the lawnmower, I saw the halter fall away as she disappeared behind the billowed curtain that was fluttering from the light breeze.

When I approached the house on subsequent passes, she was out of sight. As I was finishing the back yard, she reappeared briefly with a towel wrapped around her covering her body from the armpits down. I slowed my pursuit of the mower hoping she might take off the towel while she was in my view but that was not in the cards for this day it seemed.

By the time I had finished my cleanup and put away the tools, she was in the driveway near the garage to pay me for my day’s labor. I saw she was dressed as earlier and she appeared not to have worn a bra under the halter. I could see the well defined bumps in the fabric from her nipples pressing against the thin fabric. As I looked up, it was apparent she had noticed me staring at her breasts despite my best efforts to be subtle.

She smiled briefly and handed me the few dollars for the yard.

As I was putting away my money, she said, “My, Jeff, in the past few years you’ve grown into a handsome young man. You’ll be graduating soon, won’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

‘What are you planning to do when you graduate?” she asked.

“Well, Mom and Dad want me to go to college and finish my education. They’ve talked with me about that and a career afterward. I’m not sure what I want to do yet though.”

“So you’re off to college in the fall then. Are you looking forward to meeting all those new girls in college and sweeping them off their feet?” she said smiling.

I bursa escort felt a little awkward. How could I tell her I hadn’t even dated in high school? Surely she’d think I was a loser if she knew that and if she knew what I was thinking looking at her lovely face and body, she’d really be irate.

“You’re eighteen now aren’t you, Jeff? I remember when you were first taking care of my yard you were pretty young. You’ve grown up a lot since that time. You’ve become quite the handsome young man,” she said again with a nice smile.

“No, ma’am,” I replied. “But I’ll be eighteen my next birthday.”

“When is your birthday?” she asked

“Next week,” I responded.

“Well, young man, quite a milestone. Welcome to adulthood. Doesn’t that make you feel all grown up?” again she smiled softly as she spoke.

I shuffled my feet and looked at hers momentarily. Finally I gathered my wits enough to respond saying, “No, ma’am, not really.”

I trailed off there not knowing what to say.

“Well, Jeff, at least legally you’re an adult. So, I’ll see you again in two weeks then, Jeff?”

I stammered, “Yes, Ms. Johnson”. I figured my face must be beet red after having been caught ogling her breasts. I hopped on my bike and headed to my next job hoping she was not going to call my mother.

I finished my other job for the day and went home expecting to be nailed by an irate mother when I walked through the kitchen door.

Instead, Mom said, “Hi, Jeff, how’d the day go?”

“Just fine,” I responded heading to my room.

“Okay. Supper will be in about an hour. You might want to bathe before then,” she said, her voice following me down the hallway.

Apparently I had dodged a bullet. Mrs. Johnson had not told my mom what a nasty son I had turned out to be. Then my thoughts turned to her standing with her back to the window dressed only in her panties. I had an immediate hard on and decided to take a shower and solve two problems at once.

After the shower and my fantasy involving Mrs. Johnson, I returned to my room and read for awhile until Mom called me to dinner.

When I next appeared at Mrs. Johnson’s to do her yard, she greeted me cheerily and asked me in to wait while she unlocked the tool shed. She was again dressed in snug fitting shorts but this week with a loose fitting T-shirt. It was readily apparent even in the dimmer interior light that she wore no bra. Her nipples were distinct inside the thin fabric of the shirt as I tried not to ogle too obviously.

As she walked into the back of the house, my gaze fell to her nicely shaped butt swaying smoothly as she walked away from me. She returned a moment later carrying her keys and led me out to begin work.

With the necessary tools available, I began my routine tasks. As I worked, she remained outside and I took every opportunity to observe her and admire the shapely legs, body and her luscious breasts. I even occasionally noticed she had a pretty face. If she knew I was watching her, she did not convey her perception. As I finished the front yard area and cleaned it up, she had disappeared.

When I moved to the back yard, I found her again. Before I started cutting the grass, she asked me to help her move some patio furniture which I agreed to do almost too willingly. As we moved a couple of pieces of the rather light furniture, I was afforded the bonus of being very close to her, so close I could smell her perfume, powder, or whatever fragrance she wore.

I was also afforded a subtle display of her feminine charms as she leaned toward me. The loose fitting shirt fell away from her chest exposing the rise of her breasts and I was tantalized by the movement of her nipples against the fabric as we worked. I had to turn away briefly between pieces we moved to adjust my hard on so it was less obvious and hoped she didn’t notice.

She went indoors while I began my work in the yard. Like last week, I kept a subtle but vigilant eye on the windows having been inspired by the inadvertent show of the previous week. My vigilance was soon rewarded. She appeared in the bedroom window again. As I watched while pushing the mower, she shed the T-shirt. This time, she was facing the window and I could make out her breasts and the darker area around her nipples. I was instantly hard again.

As I turned, I caught a glimpse of her hands going to the waist of her shorts. On my next circuit, I saw my first sight of a naked woman. She seemed to have just come upright from removing her panties because she tossed them aside as I was treated to my first glorious view of a woman’s pussy covered only by the hair. I was mesmerized.

If she saw me staring, I wouldn’t have known it because my eyes were focused on the area of her pussy. I couldn’t believe my good fortune, to be in just the right place at the right time. At the time, it never occurred to me that this might have been orchestrated.

Except for a raging hard on, the rest of my morning went well and I completed my task. I didn’t catch another bursa escort bayan glimpse of Mrs. Johnson until she came out as I was putting things away.

She again handed me the money she owed me for the yard work. She then said, “Jeff, I know you have another job this afternoon but would you like to come back later, maybe after supper, and help me move some furniture in the house. I want to rearrange my living room and I’ll need some help to move things. It should only take an hour or so.”

I said, “I’ll have to ask my parents but I think so.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling. “I’ll call your mom and see if it’s okay with her.”

A chill ran down my back. Was she going to say anything to Mom about me watching her? But I said nothing hoping it was only about helping her tonight.

By the time I finished the second job and got home, I had forgotten about Mrs. Johnson’s request. As I entered the house, Mom said, “Jeff, Mrs. Johnson called.”

“Yeah, Mom?” I responded.

“She’d like you to help her move some furniture this evening and asked me if it would be okay. I told her certainly and she asked you to come over about 7:00.”

“Okay, Mom,” I answered. Whew! Got by another one, I thought. Maybe I’m in the clear and she isn’t going to tell on me.

Knowing Mom’s attitude, I showered and changed clothes for dinner even figuring I’d work up a sweat again moving stuff. She didn’t like me showing up at the dinner table dirty or smelly.

After supper, I sat around for a few minutes before heading back to Mrs. Johnson’s house.

When I knocked on her door, she opened it and let me in. I was a bit disappointed because she was not wearing the characteristic shorts and halter. She had on a pair of jeans and a blouse. She also seemed to have on a bra but I was afraid to look closely enough or long enough to tell.

“Hi, Jeff,” she greeted me. “Would you like something to drink before we start?”

“No, ma’am,” I replied.

“Would you sit down for a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you for a minute or two before we start.”

I sat on her couch. I was a bit surprised when she sat on the couch next to me rather than on the chair across from me.

“Jeff, you’ve been doing my yard for a few years now and you’ve always done a good job. I appreciate that.

“You’ve also grown into a handsome young man during that time,” she said.

I was embarrassed and looked down at my feet mumbling, “Thank you, Mrs. Johnson.”

She continued, “You’ve always been a good boy and very respectful.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

“I’ve noticed this summer that you don’t look at me the same way you have in the past.”

I felt a knot form in my stomach. Was this the talk before she called my mom and turned me in?

“You look at me as a man looks, not like the little boy who first started doing my yard. I’ve noticed lately that you stare at my body a lot when you think I’m not aware of it. Just last week, in fact, I saw you watching me through the bedroom window when I was getting ready for my shower.”

I was now firmly in the grip of fear. What was she going to do or say? If my parents found out, I was dead.

“And today, I saw you looking at me as I changed clothes. What were you looking at?” she demanded.

The direct question left me even more mute if possible. I stared at my shoes hoping for some avenue of escape knowing there was none and wishing I could just melt into the couch and disappear.

“Look at me,” this faraway voice demanded intruding into my self imposed solitude.

“Look at me,” the voice repeated.

Slowly, I raised my eyes to hers. Her face was soft and almost expressionless. I was wondering or perhaps hoping that I saw a shadow of a smile that meant I was not facing the end of my life.

“Well?” she asked.

When I finally found my voice, I croaked, “You.”

“Well, of course you were looking at me. Be more specific. What were you looking at?”

My voice almost a whisper, I said, “I was looking at your body.”

“Why?” she asked the question hard and fast.

“I … I … I’ve never seen a girl with her clothes off before,” I stammered diverting my eyes from her face back to my shoes.

“So you were curious about a woman’s body?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, did you like what you saw? Look at me when you speak, Jeff. Did you like what you saw?”

“Well, I didn’t see anything, really, Mrs. Johnson,” I lied hoping to end the inquisition.

At this point I was so nervous I was sure I was shaking visibly.

“Why are you so nervous, Jeffrey?” she asked.

I felt a renewed stab of fear at the use of my full name.

“What did you expect to see? What did you want to see?” she continued.

My gaze again dropped to my shoes. I saw her hand intrude into my field of view as she placed her open hand under my chin and lifted my face to hers.

“Look at me, Jeffrey. What were you wanting to see? Look into my eyes and bursa merkez escort tell me,” she demanded softly.

I was awestruck. My mind was racing and nothing was getting to my lips.

Finally, I was able to squeak out, “I was curious. I wanted to see you naked. I promise I won’t do it again. Just, please, … don’t tell my mom,” I pleaded. I was almost in tears at this point.

Then she stunned me by putting her arms around me and pulling me close in a motherly hug saying, “Jeff, don’t be frightened. I understand you’re nervous but I just want to know what you expected to see or wanted to see.”

“I … I don’t know, Mrs. Johnson,” I stammered. “I guess I wanted to see your body when you took off your clothes. I didn’t mean to do anything bad.”

“Well, Jeff, it wasn’t that bad, I guess. You’re a young man and it’s natural to be curious about girls. I remember when I was a girl, I was curious about boys so I can understand your curiosity, too. Aren’t you curious about girls your age? I’m an old lady with a withered and wrinkled body. How could that interest a young man like you?”

“You’re not old and wrinkled, you’re really pretty” I blurted out before I realized that I’d given away my earlier lie.

“So you did look at me then,” she said softly, smiling at me.

I realized then I was trapped and there was no way out of this one. I remained quiet. I’d been here maybe ten minutes but it felt like I’d been on a torture rack for hours.

“If you could see me up close like that, would you stop peeping through my window?” she asked.

My head snapped back and up to look into her eyes. Was she kidding? I’d promise anything to see her naked this close, maybe to even touch her. My fantasy leapt ahead of my fear briefly.

“Stand up,” she ordered as she arose.

I stood slowly, obliquely facing her. She stepped toward the center of the room beckoning me to follow. She turned facing me and put her arms out offering them as if to hug me again. I stepped toward her and her arms enfolded me as I stepped into their circle. She gently drew herself against my full body length. I felt the bulge of her chest against mine and I felt my cock grow rigid as her belly came against my crotch. I jumped at her touch fearing that she would feel my hard on pressed against her stomach and be angered.

She held me and laid her head against my shoulder. I noted we were almost the same height. I was perhaps an inch or two taller. I heard a soft “Mmmm” almost like a kitten’s purr from her throat. The smell of her hair was entrancing and the warmth I felt from her body so close was amazing.

“My, you have grown into quite the handsome young man, Jeff,” she said softly. “Come with me”

She turned away and walked down the hallway. I followed like a doting puppy.

“Where are we going?” I finally found my voice again and asked quietly.

She opened the door and I immediately identified it as a bedroom, her bedroom. “In here, Jeff,” she said softly. “Do you want to see me up close … like this afternoon?”

I was again struck dumb. Of course I did but I was afraid to admit it.

She turned to face me. “Of course you do. Every young man does, doesn’t he?” she teased.

“Come here, Jeff. Help me unbutton this blouse,” she said simply.

When I failed to move, she took my trembling hands in hers and guided them to the top button of her blouse.

“Go ahead,” she said gently. “Don’t be nervous.”

Who was she kidding? I was a nervous wreck. I still couldn’t believe this was really happening. Not that I didn’t want it, I just didn’t know what to do and it was still hard to believe I was here and not dreaming this.

As my fingers fumbled interminably with the first button, my fingers touched her bare skin. The warmth was almost like an electric shock.

Finally, the button surrendered. The next one gave up easier and the others fell quickly until the blouse was open to her waist. I stopped.

She sensed my fear and told me softly, “Go ahead. Unfasten my pants so you don’t tear my blouse by pulling too hard.”

I fumbled until I opened the snap at the waist of her jeans pausing again.

“Well, pull the zipper down, Jeff,” she chided softly.

I did as she bid and the jeans loosened about her waist.

“Now lift up my blouse,” she said softly.

The blouse slipped easily away from her loosened jeans as I pulled up on the soft fabric. Then it was free of her pants and hung open down her body. Slowly, I raised my hands letting my fingers gingerly grasp the sides of her blouse and pull them apart. She stood silently as I exposed her chest and bared her bra covered breasts.

My gaze was drawn to her chest as I opened the blouse. “Wow!” I mused softly.

“You like?” she asked.

“Uh huh,” I muttered. Then my eyes drifted below her chest to the open V of her pants where I could see her panties.

I looked up after a moment to see her eyes fixed on my face. I immediately blushed at being caught staring at her body covered as it was.

“Don’t be ashamed, Jeff. I’m showing you what a woman looks like to satisfy your curiosity. Don’t be embarrassed to look at me, okay?” she comforted me. “You’re not sneaking around peeping at me now. We’re here together and I’m showing you what you want to see. Understand?”

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