The Naighbor

I had noticed her here and there. I'm not going to lie and say she was some bombshell who looked better than a woman half her age. She had dirty blonde hair, large breasts with a bit of a sag, a stomach with the slight pouch of a woman who has had kids, and a large, meaty ass--all not bad for a woman of her age. As for her age, she was somewhere between her late forties and early fifties, at a guess. I'm not so crass as to ask a woman her age. She often tended to the flowers outside her home, dressed in either a one-piece bathing suit that clung to her body well, or short shorts and a tank top or sports bra.

I had been driving home from work, bumping slowly down the one-way dirt road that led to my house. Her home was just before mine, and as most days, I glanced over and saw her. She was attempting and failing to lift a wheelbarrow. Well, I refused to be a shitty neighbor, so I pulled into my drive, parked, and headed over to help.

"Let me do that, Ma'am."

"Oh, thanks. I guess I overfilled it."

It wasn't too bad but certainly quite heavy. I showed her where she wanted it. I set it down and was about to continue on my day.

"You mind helping me out? Pull pork and a glass of homemade lemonade in it for you."

I looked back toward my house. I had planned on a simple fare of a sandwich, a few beers while sitting outside, and reading a book.

"Sounds better than what I have planned. Alright, Ma'am."

I followed her around, lifting plants or bags of soil. At some point, the sun was beating down, and sweat soaked into my shirt.

"I don't mind if you take your shirt off. It's certainly too hot for it."

I grunted but did so. Again, I'm not going to bs you--I'm strong and work in the trades. Bearing the eighteen-year-old kids working the summer tradesmen have two body types: crack heads or beer bellies. I'm the latter--broad in the shoulders, thick in the chest, and potbellied. She watched me for a second, but I didn't pay any mind, and we continued her yard work for about another hour.

We put away her tools and wheelbarrow and then headed into her home. Our houses were similar, as many manufactured homes are, but the differences were on display. I had few decorations, and while cleaning a few dishes that I commonly used were on the strainer and cobwebs could be found in the corners. Her home was spotless; pictures of her family decorated the walls and knickknacks covered shelves. A few comfy chairs and couches were in the living room, and she had a large table in the dining room.

"Sit," she urged, taking my shirt from my hands, hat, and glasses from my head to place on one of the chairs. Once I sat, she handed me a tall glass of lemonade and fixed my plate. The food was good, and I told her so. I was far from a bad cook, but eating your own food quickly grows tiresome.

When I glanced up, I noticed her hair had been quickly brushed, and her lips were painted a soft shade of red. Call me oblivious if you want, but I still assumed that she had fixed her face for female vanity and not because she was trying to seduce me. She delicately offered me sandwiches, and I downed the lemonade.

"Thanks, Ma'am. Um, it was great," I stood and moved to grab my things when she quickly got out of her chair and placed a hand on my wrist, reaching for my things.

"Look, I'm just going to come out and say it. We're both single, both adults. I'm not looking for anything serious, but would you like to have sex?"

"Oh, um, ah."

She misinterpreted my sudden surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I know I'm older."

"Sorry, Ma'am. That's not it. I'm more than happy to have uh have sex with you." Even I knew I came off as robotic.

She grinned and lifted her lips up. I leaned down and kissed her. She was more experienced than me; her tongue entered my mouth and did things that felt good, but I couldn't hope to match. As our kiss continued, I reached around her, grabbing her meaty ass, and then lifted her up. She moaned into my mouth, and as the kiss broke, I walked her over to the table and sat her down on the tabletop.

I kissed at her neck and chest. "Yes, baby," she moaned. I gripped her chest and tits, pulling off her top to suck on her nipples, my tongue swirling around her nipple. Her hands were in my hair, gripping and pulling my hair while she muttered encouragement. My hands went for her shorts, and undoing them, she leaned back, and I pulled her shorts and panties off. I went back to kiss her, and my hand went down for her cunny. She was wet--really wet. I didn't know if it was because of the bit of foreplay or if she had done something earlier in anticipation, but I didn't care.

I stepped back, undid my pants, and let them fall around my ankles. I moved back to her, pulling her body closer, her legs around my waist, my left hand on her hip, my right on her collarbone, and I entered her slowly.

"Don't worry, baby. Go hard," so I did as she bade me.

I thrusted hard and fast, grunting as I slammed into her. She was vocal but not a screamer, moaning and saying encouragement as I pounded her. Right grabbed my left wrist on her waist, digging her nails in. Her right hand went to her clit, rubbing furiously. I'd like to say I'm some sex god who fucked her for hours, but reality was she clenched her jaw, tensing up, moaning with closed lips, her legs wrapped around my waist, and pussy clenching around my cock.

"I'm going to cum," I grunted, trying to pull out.

"Inside. Inside. Inside. Can't" Was all she got out.

I exploded inside a few shuddering thrusts, sweat dropping off my head. As her legs unclenched and let go, I stood up straight again and stepped back, breathing hard.

"Shower?" She asked, one arm crossed over her brow, her chest moving with her heavy breathing.

I offered her my hand, then helped her up. She had an odd kind of walk, her right hand holding her sex. She waddled her way to the bathroom and sat on the toilet as I fiddled with the shower knobs. It was a lot easier to adjust than mine, and it was easy to get hot but not scalding. I entered. Shortly later, she did as well. I grabbed a container of body wash and a scrunchy, got it good and soapy, then began washing her, working down her back, being careful to gently but firmly rub and massage her body.

Soon I worked my way down to her feet. She turned, placing a hand upon my head and lifted her foot as I washed and massaged. The soft moans she made encouraged me. Despite my own desire, I didn't spend long on her feet. I'd lost my last girlfriend when I was open about my foot fetish. She was happy when I would surprise her with heels or clothing that emphasized her legs, but the moment I came clean, it was "I can't be with a guy who wants to lick my feet."

So, I quickly moved off her feet and worked up her legs, massaging her calves. I would have tongued her cunny, but seeing as I just deposited a load there, I wasn't about to stick my tongue inside. I moved up, massaging her tummy, paid attention to her breasts, then up her neck, and she closed her eyes. I gently washed her face. She turned toward the water, and I began to wash her hair. I was a bit surprised that she was willing to let me pamper her in such a way, but wasn't about to question it. When I finally finished, I stepped back to let her finish rinsing her hair as I did the quick work of soaping myself. We shifted positions, and I started to rinse myself off. She washed my back, her nails scratching a bit--a lovely feeling that quickly had me shuddering in pleasure.

"Turn around," she commanded.

She sat on a bench built into the shower. My dick was about level with her mouth. She leaned forward, taking me into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the end before she took me all the way inside. She was good, really good--her mouth applying the perfect amount of pleasure, her tongue doing mysterious and pleasant things. I began to thrust a bit, carefully not to choke her. She took me in again and again. I leaned over her, groaning, a hand in her hair, the other on the shower wall.

"I'm going to cum."

She gripped my thighs, holding me just inside her mouth as I cummed inside her mouth. I leaned, groaned above her as she finished up, swallowing.

"God, I needed that," she said to my surprise, before offering me her hand. I helped her up, and we stepped out of the shower. She stayed inside to gargle water before stepping out.

"That was good, babe. I'll let you know when I'm in the mood again, okay?" She gave me a peck on the cheek, and I left.

So that was it for being a booty call. It wasn't too terrible, and hey, at least I don't have to worry about the annoying crap that usually comes with relationships.