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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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"You're tall, you should help Anne get her tree out of her loft."
My wife suggested this as a friendly, neighbourly gesture for the widow in her sixties who lived in the house facing ours. I hadn't had much to do with her apart from saying hello in the mornings but my wife had become quite chatty with her over the summer.
That Saturday afternoon, I went round and Anne opened the door before I had a chance to knock. In her hallway, she put her hand on my arm and told me how kind I was going to all this trouble for her. She stepped in a little closer putting her other hand lightly on my hip and asked if I would like to go upstairs.
I followed along in the wake of her perfume and maintained a respectful distance as she climbed the stairs. I enjoyed watching the shape of her large, round behind sway from side to side in her a-line skirt as she ascended the stairs. To my surprise, she began to climb the ladder into the loft and I glanced into her bedroom, noticing some lacy black lingerie on a chair by the door. "I've been looking but I just can't see where it is" Anne echoed from the loft. I looked up and caught a glimpse of her soft inner thigh; I looked away but was drawn back to see if I could get another, longer look. This time, I noticed Anne had caught me looking and I felt my cock swell. She came down and it was my turn to check the loft. The old jeans I thought would be best for crawling around dusty attics in were already tight and I hoped Anne wouldn't notice the prominent outline developing across them as I went up the ladder. My foot slipped as I climbed and I felt Annes hand on my leg as she told me to be careful, it reached around slightly before she pulled it away, seemingly closer to the bulge she must've seen.
I called down from the hatch to tell her I couldn't find her tree and that was when I saw her skirt and top discarded on the carpet below. |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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"I want you to come in here and help me with something else" Anne purred. I tentatively stepped over the pile of hastily discarded clothes and was confronted with the sight of my neighbour's shapely figure, deliciously wrapped in laced black underwear.
My pulse raced as I struggled to comprehend how to deal with this happening; I could walk away, but this be a secret between Anne and I, waiting to emerge at any time. Or would I regret passing this opportunity and should I do as lad 'should' do and attend to her needs?
My gaze passed from her thick thighs, past a pair of full, heavy-set breasts to a now-predatory gaze.
Seemingly, the decision had been made for me.
Anne walked over and grabbed my jeans, pulling me close to her soft body, her hands sliding round to my tightly packaged arse and her mouth finding it's mark on first my neck, then my mouth.
I recoiled and half garbled, half reminded her that my wife was waiting for me at home, trying hard not to sound too pitiful in my excuse. "Sit down on the bed." There was an edge of steel in Anne's voice and I found myself obeying, sitting on the edge of the mattress so as not to disrupt the crime-scene of this impending, marital betrayal.
Anne showed me her phone and there was a lengthy stream of messages between Anne and my wife. The last message Anne had received that afternoon had simply said: 'Don't be too gentle with him.' |
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