Note: this story can be read stand-alone, but I have bucked my trend and created a second chapter to a previous story.

Chapter 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/1ctpx2d/my_moms_friend_needed_some_help_with_her_yard/

“Mary, you’ve got to tell me,” Irina says to me, providing no further explanation.

I watch as three tiny bubbles free themselves from the wall of my glass, gliding up to the surface of the water and popping. Only then do I look up at my friend. “Tell you what?”

You’d never know it from the ferns and jungle plants surrounding us and sheltering us from the day’s heat, or from the terracotta and adobe courtyard with the wrought iron tables and deliberately casual wait staff, but we’re only a block from our office, nestled into the county’s seat of money of power, at a boutique if expensive cafe. The other patrons are demure, dressed smart, and far enough away so as to limit what can be overheard.

“Don’t be coy,” Irina says, “Not here, not with me.” She’s idly pushing the last leaf of feta-and-vinaigrette-flecked-arugula around her plate with her fork. “You should see yourself, you’re basically glowing. You’ve got a secret boyfriend, don’t you?”

I almost blush, but instead I force indignation. “Do not.”

“Ok,” she rolls her eyes, “Maybe not a boyfriend. But you’re interested in someone, I can tell. And you? When you’re interested in someone? You get them.”

Irina’s the CEO of a regional investment trust and I’m on her executive staff, have been for over a decade. She’s my one true friend there, the one person for whom my smiles and banter and repartee are more than professional, deeper than superficial. Yet, some things remain that shouldn’t be shared even among good friends.

“It’s…” I’m grinning, I can’t help it. I try looking away but it doesn’t work. “It’s not what you think.”

“Aha, so there is someone! I knew it.” She leans in and shoots me one of those chummy and prankish smiles that are so out of character for a woman in her position, a woman of her poise. “It’s not Austin, is it?”

“Austin my PA? You fucking kidding me? No! That’s a terrible idea. He’s too good at what he does. You don’t fuck the good ones, Irina. You fuck the dumb pretty ones. Plus I think he might be gay. I saw him getting into Paul’s Miata the other week. They had the top down and everything.”

“Paul’s shameless,” she shakes her head, “Who ever thought an accountant would have such game? But, Mary, you’re just changing the subject. If it’s not someone from the office, who is it? A client?”

A dove coos somewhere overhead as the waiter glides up and refills my sparking water from the bottle. I pick my teeth clean with my tongue, considering my answer. Irina lets me stew.

I start with a sigh. “Ok. I don’t even know where to begin with this. And it’s not a relationship, so don’t go thinking anything like that. But, yes, I’ve got some … ‘thing’ and it is completely wrong for me and a bad idea all around and indefensible but ohmygod I cannot stop thinking about it.”

“About… ‘it’?”

“Him. He’s a … man.”

“What is he? Why is he wrong? Is he a gangster? A spy? Oh wait, no, he’s not family is he? Your brother-in-law?”

I curl my face up in horror. “Gross, Irina, what the hell? No. He’s just… he’s… well, he’s half my age. Or less. I’m not quite sure.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “Ohhhh. Wow. Well, good for you, still rockin’ at… what’re you? Forty-one? Damn, girl. How’d you land a boytoy?”

“He’s not a– ok, I guess that’s fair. And, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to judge me.”

“Judge you? Seriously? Girl, I’m jealous. Tell me your secrets. I could use a strapping young man of my own.”

“You don’t even– save your thirsty momma routine. He’s a… a friend’s son, basically. Nancy? The woman who was my wedding planner for number two? Well, her and I got to be friends during that whole fiasco, and I’d go over to her house when things with that asshole I thought I was marrying were falling apart. You know, her and I were supposed to be planning, but really we were just commiserating. Anyway, her kid, he’d linger around when he wasn’t busy with class, and I guess he got a little infatuation with me, somehow.”

“Because you’re gorgeous, Mary.”

I wave it off. “It was flattering but I never paid it any mind. Really, I didn’t even spare the kid a stray thought and still wouldn’t, except… well, that thing with my yard couple weeks back? The kid — I shouldn’t call him that, he’s a full grown adult, technically, I mean, at least he’s in college — but he just up and volunteers to fix my landscaping for free. And I’m looking at him, scrawny, never worked a day in his life, thinking you’re fucking kidding me, right? But what do I have to lose? He’s cute enough, and it’s not like he’s a jerk, and if I let this college boy play in the dirt in exchange for a little bit of ogling, it’s all in good fun, right?

“Ogling?” She casts a wry look my way. “What were you wearing?”

I laugh. “Nothing too scandalous, I promise. But if I showed off the girls a little bit…” I shake my chest, make my considerable tits bounce in my blouse. “And you shoulda seen him, trying so hard to keep his eyes up on my face, like it required physical effort or something.”

“Turns out those balloons of yours were a good investment. So, what, you fucked him?” For all Irina’s talk, the only scandal she gets up to herself is vicarious, via my stories.

“No, I didn’t fuck him,” I recoil, “I mean, not as such. He was really… he actually fixed the yard up good. I mean, legit, put things back together. I was sure he was going to flake out on me at once it got tough, but he insisted on keeping going, keeping at it until the work was done.”

“Damn. Maybe we should hire him.”

“Don’t you start. So this scrawny ki– man, by the end, he’s not looking quite so scrawny anymore. I mean, it’s not like he was suddenly a muscle-man or something, but seeing him work and sweat and labor away, and also seeing his obvious interest in me, my mind starts getting ideas…” My sentence wanders off into silence as the memories replay in my head, Brian toiling away in my backyard, the sweat pouring off his forehead, streaking down his cheeks. The way he keeps stealing glances at my tits when he thinks I’m not looking. Inviting him upstairs to shower…

“So then what?” Irina insists, “You’re just getting to the good part. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“How lurid do you want this?” I scoff. “He was filthy, covered in dirt and who knows what else. I told him to clean himself off. And then… you know…”

“No, I do not know. What did you do?”

I give her a look and sigh. “Really?”

“I won’t tell a soul,” she says, leaning in close and conspiratorial, “I promise. This is the most excitement I’ve had all month. You have to tell me.”

“I just was going to tease him, I promise. I figured he deserved that, all the work he’d put in. I thought maybe…” I bite my lip, try not to blush, “Maybe I’d ogle him back, show him a little more skin at the same time, you know? Something to amuse us both. Something for him to go home, think about while jacking off. But he…”

“He what? Seduced you?”

“Not exactly. Don’t think less of me. But when I saw him in the shower he was frozen stiff, in more ways than one. He had this, just, huge hard-on. Just this completely erect, very nice penis. Something with no business being on a scrawny boy like him. And I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t leave him like that, not with his dick like that. So I… gave him a hand, if you know what I mean.”

“You didn’t!”

I shake my head. “He loved it. Obviously. I was saying this stuff to him, telling him he needed come back and do more chores for me basically, you know, just to tease him along while I was, err, while I helped him finish. But he took it seriously, showing up the next day like he was reporting for duty. So I was like, ok, if you really want to wash my car that bad, go for it.”

“And you…?”

“Yeah,” I grin, “I jerked him off again, sent his little brain spinning. And he’s been coming over nearly every day since, doing whatever I tell him, my personal handy-man.” I laugh at my wordplay. “I had him clean my windows, even those hard-to-reach high ones upstairs. I had him finally fix a closet shelf that’s been bugging me for years. He hung all these annoying little pictures of my sisters’ kids gave me. Cleaned a wasp nest off my eaves — I actually felt bad for having him do that.”

“So, what, you jerk him off each time he helps you?”

“Sort of, yeah, I guess. His mom thinks I’m paying him, he said. I feel bad betraying her like that, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. And it’s not like Brian’s complaining any.”

“Brian? That’s his name? How is he with you? Does he satisfy your needs?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. We haven’t… things haven’t…” Memory comes crashing in, Brian naked in my backyard, splayed out on the white plastic slats of the pool lounger while I sit next to him in my bikini. The need is clear in his eyes, the stiffness of his cock. He’d shaved himself bare for me, and his obscene erection is shiny and slick with the lotion I’ve rubbed on in the guise of soothing the razor burn. He doesn’t have razor burn. But it’s a convenient turn in the game we play, the one where I tell him we can’t do this, it’s wrong, I’m too old for him. Where he tells me that he can’t stop thinking of me, that I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, that he will do anything I ask. And so as I stroke the lotion into his beefy and unlikely cock, his big-ole balls tense up tight and he looks at me with such devotion, such desire. Before I grip him good and hard and he blows his load all over my flagstone yard, that is, a sizable geyser of spunk spilling on my behalf.

“You mean,” Irina looks offended, “You’re not getting anything out of this? Then what are you so happy about, for fuck’s sake? Why don’t you go all the way?”

Would he fuck me? “I– I can’t,” I shake my head, “That’s– that’s a bridge too far.”

“Girl, you’re jerking his brains out. The least you can do is have him return the favor. You may not be getting into a normal relationship but you’re both adults. It’s not taking advantage if you both want it. Get your fun while you can, I say. Or if you don’t, at least introduce him to me. I have some, ah, chores he can help with.”

“Irina, you’re married.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“You’re horny,” I admonish her, “Go home and blow your husband like a good little wife.” I raise my hand, flag over the waiter and ask for the check. Leaning close to my friend, I remind her, “This conversation stays here. Tell nobody.”

“When have I ever shared your secrets? I can’t. You know where all the bodies are buried.” We expense the meal and head out through the portico, exiting our reverie and returning to the office.

I have an afternoon of meetings I push through all while distracted by my own brooding, and I steal out as soon as I can, zipping my little sportscar up into the hills to my home. Coming in from the garage, I find Brian waiting for me, sitting on a kitchen barstool on his phone. He puts it away, eager for my approval. “Hey. I cleaned all the grout, like you said,” he announces, “I had to go to the store, get some special scrub, but I got it done.”

This is getting a bit ridiculous, and I am running low on real chores for him to help with. Cleaning the grout? C’mon. “Thanks, Brian,” I say anyway, heading past him, going up the stairs to my en suite.

He follows behind, all the way to my big walk-in closet, not asking for anything, just hoping. My conversation earlier with Irina has stuck with me, made me wonder, has jerking Brian off gotten stale? Sure, it was fun in the beginning, driving him crazy with just some skin and some touch, but how long can we really keep doing this? All good things must come to an end, that’s just the way things are.

“Look, Brian,” I say, slipping out of my suit jacket and placing it on the hanger, “We’ve been having some good times, right?” He leans against the door frame and peers in, looking so vulnerable. I hate to crush his spirits. Yet it needs to be said, and since it needs to be said it’s better to be quick, like taking dick in the ass. “But I think maybe we should call it quits while we’re ahead. Before things get… complicated, you know?”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing complicated.” Denial, always denial with men.

Having finished unbuttoning my shirt, I pull it off my sleeves and hang it out. Maybe having this conversation while taking my clothes off doesn’t make the most sense, but it’s not like I’m doing a striptease, it’s not like this bra is especially revealing. I’m just changing, not even facing him. “We’ve had some fun, Brian. I’m serious, really we have. But you know this thing we have can’t last forever.”

“I don’t need ‘forever,’” he says, coming up on me from behind, “But I’m far from done with you.” Who is this suddenly confident person? Where has the little boy gone? How has he gotten so brazen, grabbing my ass like this?

“Let me take my slacks off first, at least,” I say, unzipping them, pushing them down. His hand grips into my ass cheek, fingers deep. I can feel his need hot against my skin, his cock jabbing me through his jeans. “I’ll jack you off one last time, ok? But that’s it.”

“No!” he growls, fingers under my panties, slipping into me from behind. “That’s not what you want, either.”

“It isn’t?” I’m taken aback by his certainty.

“You want to ride my cock.”

These words, coming from him, they’re ridiculous and I almost laugh. But instead I find myself moaning from his fingers touching me, making me wet. I’m thirsty for more of it, and I bend at the waist, my face pressed up against the racks where I keep all my shoes, my butt pushed out and into his grip. I step out of my pants, high heeled feet parting. I can feel my arousal swelling fast and strong, eager to be sated.

“You want me to fuck you until you scream,” he says.

“I do?” I don’t sound so sure of myself anymore.

“You want me deeper inside you than you’ve ever felt before.” His fingers curl and pump, and I push my ass out even more.

“I do?” I whimper.

“You want to feel my hot cum in your pussy.”

“I do!” I admit, “Yes! I do!”

And then he’s holding his breath and it’s not his fingers inside my anymore, it’s his cock, thick and commanding, shoving me open, skewering me deep. He exhales and I moan, loud and low, riding this little man’s big dick, giving myself over to his triumph. His pleasure becomes my pleasure. Each time he pulls out, his shaft drags past my clit, blasts me with ecstasy. Each time he drives in, it’s like the first time all over again, an overwhelming virility demanding my submission, my obedience to his need.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, ohfuck, ohfuck…” I’m muttering.

His hands are tight on my hips, squeezing me with each grunting insertion. His balls swing between his legs, and I reach under, grab them. His groans grow in pitch, his thrusts their fervor.

I’ve never suspected Brian of being able to fuck like this, of being able to take command and use my body to please his. And I’ve never suspected myself of being so easy to conquer, of being able to so quickly go from dumping a man to needing him in my life.

He fucks like a crazy man, no consistency to his pace, no rhythm to his tempo. It keeps me guessing, keeps me moaning and hot, never knowing when I might be teased along the edge, when I might be skewered deep.

My back is arched and my face is down and I’m presenting my ass to him for him to use, my pose begging him to fill me with his mighty cock, to subjugate me to his lust.

“Fuck, fuck,” I’m moaning, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck!”

And then before I even know what’s happening my thighs are shaking my knees weakening my legs pinching together and he’s staring down at me past his huge swaying cock total shock on his cute face and I’m on the floor shuddering and climaxing eyes rolling around in my head and I realize only as I come down that I’ve been wailing the entire time.

I catch my breath and in one motion I sit up straight and grab his dick and bring it into my mouth. The wet sucking sounds fill my closet as I struggle to get more and more of his shaft through my lips. I can taste myself on it, my arousal coating his meat, and I suck it clean. A quick glance upwards confirms what I suspect, that he’s staring at me wide-eyed and astonished, never before having had his dick so well serviced.

I blow spit on it, rub it in with my fist, cup his balls, and keep sucking, sucking, sucking, fixing my eyes on his while he gasps and pants. I reach over my head to let my hair down, and he seems to like that. I giggle as I pull my lips off his dick, licking clean all the beads of fluid dripping from it. His eyes widen even further — something I didn’t think possible — as I grab his shaft and direct it under my bra and between my tits. I squeeze my boobs together, rubbing him off on my chest. His fat swollen head emerges from my cleavage over and over again as he gawks in awe.

“I want you to paint me white with your cum,” I goad him, “I want you to explode with one of your massive loads, cumming your little brains out. Show me how much you need me, Brian, show me how much I turn you on.”

He whimpers, eyelids fluttering.

I don’t let up. “Drain your balls on me, Brian, drain them all over my big, sexy tits. Give me a hot fat load of that cum. Make me drip with it, make me sticky with it. I want to see you spray.”

His jaw is slack, a constant whinnying groan emerges.

“Cum on me,” I tell him, not sure where this crazy stuff is coming from, just trying to get him off, “And I’ll be your whore forever.”

That does it. He grunts, his head flopping down, his eyes rolling back, and he’s cumming. Oh my god is he cumming. Like a firehose he sprays his seed, thick blasts of cream one after the other that stick to my chin, drip down my neck, coat my tits. He’s always had big loads but this is something else, his huge cock throbbing away in a neverending succession. I squeeze his shaft, wring him dry, only for him to twitch and another pearly white stream shoot out a moment later.

When he finally stumbles backwards, collapses into the opposite wall where yet more shoes are racked, I look down at myself, dripping and sticky with evidence of his lust. “Well,” I say even though I don’t think he can hear me, “Guess I’m taking my shower sooner than I planned.”

The next room over is my big master bathroom, and there I’m cleaning his seed off me when I see Brian next. He marches in, determination on his cute little features, a massive erection once again on his narrow hips.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter.

But as he steps into the many jets of steaming water and pushes my back into the soft marble wall, lifting my leg and shoving his cock into me, he is definitely not kidding. I don’t know how he’s so hard again and I don’t care. The young and abundantly virile man fucks me closer and closer to another orgasm, and that’s all there’s room for in my mind. His dick fills my pussy, fulfills my need, sates me in a way that masturbation never does. I can’t believe I wasted this last two weeks just giving him handjobs. No wonder I was growing bored, no wonder I wasn’t excited anymore.

I climax, falling against him. He pushes me back, keeps fucking. Fucking, fucking, fucking, until his cum is so hot inside me.

Later, towels spread out to protect my bed, I’m laying back, nude self on display. Brian is at my side, worshiping me. My body is glistening with the lotion he’s rubbed in, every inch of skin from neck to arms to feet to legs to belly to tits to pussy, glistening and shiny and sleek. I’m wet and he’s hard but we’re not fucking, not yet at least. Before we get to that, I’m teaching him where to touch me, how to make me hot, how to get me off. He’s an avid student and a fast learner, eagerly massaging me where I say, neglecting his own needs in service of mine. Through the manipulation I’ve taught him, he’s had me riding closer and closer to the pinnacle for the hour since we finished dinner. But this moment is not the time for subtlety, and his fingers now draw little circles around my clit, thumb grinding and pushing me past the brink.

He sucks on a nipple as I shudder with orgasm.

“Fuck, Brian,” I gasp, “You’re getting good at that.”

“I want to give you pleasure,” he says, “I want to be generous.”

“You have been,” I say. Squeezing more lotion onto my palm, I bring my hand up and massage his balls until he’s dripping. “And now it’s my turn to give you something.” I stroke his shaft, make him throw his head back in pleasure. A handjob’s not what I have in mind, I just love his cock and cannot help myself.

But that’s what he thinks he’s getting. So when I guide him onto his back and straddle his hips and lower myself onto his tower of manliness, his eyes are again wide with astonishment. “Fuuuuuck…” he groans.

I twist my hips side to side, make his dick shift inside me, make him gasp in pleasure. “Oh, Brian,” I leer, “I’m just getting started with you.”