The phone rang for the first time, and my stomach fell deeper into my core. I didn’t think I could feel any more humiliated than I already am…
“Mom, do I have to do this—it was just a joke,” I complained over my shoulder, the phone still pressed to my ear.
“You humiliated a respectful lady behind her back. I raised you better than that,” my mother snapped from the hallway.
A second ring.
“But I’m eighteen years old, this is stupid. She doesn’t even know—”
“That’s right, you’re eighteen years old and still acting like a juvenile. Maybe you’ll think about this the next time.”
A third ring. Mrs. Finnish answered as it finished.
“Hello?” she said.
I sighed, rubbing my fingers over my brow as I tried to imagine how this conversation was going to play out. “Hello, um, Mrs. Finnish?”
“Yes.”
“This is Matt. Uh, Matt Conwright. Your neighbor from across the street.”
“Oh, yes! Hi there, I thought you were off to college. I haven’t seen you around much,” she said brightly.
“Um, yes, no, I mean. I’m leaving soon. A few weeks…” I stalled and stole a glance over my shoulder and confirmed, yup, mother was still there. “Listen, this is kinda uncomfortable for me to say… I saw you gardening yesterday, and I might have—” my mother slapped the back of my head, “Did. I definitely did take a few photos and a video of you for… personal use… and, well, I just feel really guilty about it now and wanted to apologize.”
“Oh?” the brightness had left Mrs. Finnish’s voice as she measured my words. Okay, now I really did feel a little guilty. Mrs. Finnish was always a nice lady growing up. She was a little older than my mom but certainly didn’t look that way. When I was little, I would go over to her house with other neighborhood kids for cookies and milk. But that was a long time ago. Cookies and milk were not what I was interested in anymore.
“Yeah,” I said in a slump, “And I just wanted to say I’m really sorry for disrespecting you and—and I deleted everything and I hope you can forgive me.”
Turning around with a beet-red face, I shrugged at my Mother as if asking if that was enough. She might have nodded approvingly, but she rolled her finger forward. It was not enough.
“And…” I sighed again and winced, “And to make it up to you, if you like, I’d be happy to help with gardening this week if you need a hand.”
Please say no. Please say no. Please say no…
“Um, well,” Mrs. Finnish giggled uncomfortably like she was as eager as I was to change the subject, “Now that you mention it, I could use another pair of hands for my rose bushes. They always cut me up.”
Fuck!
“Great, I’d be happy to help.”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you. I always knew you were such a good boy. Um, see you tomorrow, say around eight?”
“Eight in the morning?” I blurted out and felt a swift smack to the back of my head.
“Too early?” Mrs. Finnish asked.
“Nope, nope. Eight sounds great. I was just making sure. See you then.”
“Bye-bye,” she replied and hung up.
“Gardening at eight,” I said turning to face my Mother. “Happy now?”
“You stay there until she tells you you can go,” she warned with an extended finger, “If she keeps you all day, so be it.”
“Yes, Mom,” I moped.
Chapter Two
“Ah!” I growled and yanked my hand back, which of course, only made the scratch worse.
“Ooo, did they get you again?” Mrs. Finnish asked.
“No, I’m fine. Just sharp thorns,” I said and got back to weeding beneath the rose bushes. I always thought everything would change once I turned eighteen. I’d be a man and people would respect me. Now look at me. Gardening for the middle-aged neighbor under threat of my Mother.
I’ll never grow up. But I guess this is what happens when you’re stupid enough to accidentally text sexy photos of your neighbor to your Mother instead of your best friend—Matthew.
I arrived at Mrs. Finnish’s house at eight sharp. I hadn’t seen the morning sun since I graduated high school, and I definitely didn’t miss it. Finding Mrs. Finnish wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans that revealed little to no skin left me feeling more than a little sad. I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable around me. So, despite the fact that she carried with her the most enormous breasts in the neighborhood, I made it a point to fight my teenage urges and not look at them once the entire morning.
Hours added with more hours until the sun was high noon and I was covered in sweat, cuts, and dirt—and she still didn’t release me!
“Why don’t you come on in,” She finally said, standing. “The least I can do is fix you some lunch for all the work you’ve done.”
Mrs. Finnish had been talking and telling stories all morning. She wasn’t usually the ‘talk too much’ type, but I figured she was lonely. Her husband died a number of years ago, and they never had children. Inside, I rinsed the sweat from my face in the sink and toweled off, only to return to the kitchen to hear Mrs. Finnish continue another story. I never considered how rarely I saw her leave her house or how I couldn’t recall ever seeing any visitors.
Great, as if I needed more of a reason to feel guilty for objectifying her.
“I’m such a blabbermouth. Listen to me go.” Mrs. Finnish rolled her eyes and shook her head as she stood, gathering our empty plates. Her blonde hair brushed back and forth on her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I guess I had a lot of words pent up, huh?”
She set the plates down in the sink and returned to her seat beside mine in the dining room. I sipped at my orange juice, fidgeting with the glass.
“No, not all. I actually enjoy listening to you. It’s, um, you’re kind of relaxing to be around.”
Mrs. Finnish’s eyes flicked to and from mine a few times. An open sensitivity in them that I hadn’t seen before. “Really?” she asked. Her voice was gentle.
My stomach clenched as I felt on the cusp of a serious and/or emotional conversation, which I didn’t do well with either. What? I’m a month away from being a freshman college boy. My life revolves around girls, video games, and alcohol!
“Sure, I like this time I get to spend with you,” I said, wondering if I was lying.
Those words broke the camel’s back as she frowned, and tears broke loose down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she cried.
“Ahh, don’t cry, Mrs. Finnish,” I reassured, reaching out a hand to rub her upper back. She quickly turned to me and cried harder into my chest.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just—I’ve been so alone these past few years and—and haven’t had many people to talk to,” she said between sniffles. “It’s so nice to be heard and considered again, you know?”
“Of course, that’s only natural,” I said, though my eyes were locked on the ceiling as I tried not to focus on the sweet smell of her perfume, the feel of her large breasts pressed into my chest, or the growing bulge in my pants.
“Oh, dear! Look at your hands!” Mrs. Finnish noticed them as she pulled away from the hug. They were puzzled with red scrapes from the rose bushes.
“Oh, they’re fine,” I said but it did feel nice to be babied a bit as she cupped them tenderly.
“You poor things. Now I feel even worse for making you help me,” Mrs. Finnish said and seemed to get lost in her own world as she kissed one of the larger cuts on my hand.
That’s not helping my problem…
I froze as she kissed my hand a few times, then gently brushed her cheek with the back of my hand.
“I know you just worked all morning, but would you mind just staying, keeping me company a little longer? We can watch TV or whatever you want,” she said. Her starry eyes were wide and begging.
“Um, sure, yeah,” I said in a trance, still thinking about her lips on my hand.
Chapter Three
A few minutes later, we had moved to the living room. A pristine room that was perfectly clean and vacuum-sealed like no one had ever been in it. I had to quickly pick at the crotch of my jeans before sitting to hide my growing erection. Mrs. Finnish changed her shirt because it was dotted with tears. Her new shirt was short-sleeved and revealed a healthy amount of cleavage. Was this a signal?
She sat beside me on the couch and took my hand in hers in a familiar sort of way. Like we were an old couple watching daytime TV. A few minutes into watching whatever talk show this was, Mrs. Finnish rested her head on my shoulder. A stolen glance to my side gave me a direct sight down her shirt. She adjusted her grip so that she hugged my arm at the elbow. This meant my arm was squished between her breasts, and my palm rested casually on the thigh above her knee.
There were a couple more adjustments that left my cheeks flush and my body rigid as I tried to focus. If my mother chewed me out this much for a simple pic, I’m screwed if Mrs. Finnish spots me leering at her and freaks out—or sees my hard-on.
As if she could read my mind, Mrs. Finnish straightened suddenly and looked at me. Shit!
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Hm?”
“It feels like you’re pulling away from me. I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”
“Oh, no, no, not at all. This is very comfortable… a little too comfortable,” I half chuckled and cleared my throat as I picked at my jeans.
“Oh… Oh,” she said and her eyes showed worried signs of understanding. “M-Maybe I should sit over here.”
“No, no, this is fine,” I said, placing my hand on her thigh again. I lied to myself. I’m doing this for her. She’s lonely.
Her genuine smile eased over her lips at the touch, and slowly eased back into my side, her arms hugging mine against her body. “Aren’t you growing up to be such a fine young man,” she said and planted a kiss on the blade of my shoulder. I noticed her linger and bask in my scent before resting her head on my shoulder again.
The next few minutes were a bit different than before. Mrs. Finnish’s hands continued to rub up and down my arm and hand. She adjusted herself a few times and then began to breathe out of her mouth.
“D-Do you want to touch them?” she asked suddenly.
“You mean…” I start but see her placing a hand on her chest.
“It was sweet of you to call and apologize for taking pictures of me and all, and even sweeter that you’re spending time with me, but I won’t mind if you want to touch them a bit,” she ducked her head and shrugged her shoulders a bit deviously. “It can be our little secret.”
“Yeah, I mean, if it’s okay with you,” I confirmed.
“Sure, you’ve been so nice, and I don’t mind at all,” she laughed sheepishly.
Chewing on the corner of my lip, I reached out and carefully placed a hand on her chest. I rubbed my hand down the fabric, cupping her right breast. Instantly, my cock throbbed. I wished the shirt wasn’t in the way, but I didn’t complain. The only other woman I had made it to second base with was my ex-girlfriend, and she barely had a chest.
I licked my lips as both my hands rubbed over her breasts. I pretended not to notice her breathing increase as I did. My fingers grew bold as I began to squeeze and rub my thumbs over her hardening nipples beneath the fabric.
“Hmm…” Mrs. Finnish pressed her lips together to mute the moan, but I still heard it. I rubbed and squeezed to try and elicit more of those amazing sounds.
Chewing her own lips now, Mrs. Finnish’s body relaxed and seemed to melt into the couch as my palms repeated slow, massaging circles into her chest.
“Oh…” the older woman sighed, “Matthew…”
The woman’s hand rested on my thigh closest to her and rubbed up and down slightly. I felt her red-painted fingernails drag on my jeans. Her eyes were more closed than open. Not wanting to stop, I decided to see how far I could progress.
I worked my massaging circles higher on her heavy breasts until my palms were swiping over the skin of her cleavage. Slowly, my fingertips edged underneath the thin fabric of her shirt. Deeper and deeper, they pushed with every circle until they began to scoop inside her enormous beige bra.
“Oh… Oh, Matt,” Mrs. Finnish whimpered weakly as my hands pulled out her right breast from her bra and shirt. The massive tit hung from her chest, revealing faded stretch marks along the side and a hard nipple pointing at me. I rubbed my thumb over the nipple several times and watched the mature woman’s eyes close and her back arch. “Ooo… honey… Matt, we shouldn’t be doing this. We really shouldn’t be doing this, honey.”
“Okay,” I said, my hands slowly retreating from her breast as she looked to be recovering her strength. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t, but, I’d really like to kiss your nipple.”
“Oh, baby, we c—” Mrs. Finnish started but stopped herself as she looked around the room as if to make sure no one magically appeared. She chewed the corner of her lip and knitted her brow with angst for a moment, before relenting. “Okay, I suppose a kiss isn’t too bad.”
Licking my lips, I lifted the heavy breast to my mouth and took her nipple. My warm saliva bathed it as my lips suckled and pulled on the hard nub.
“Oh, God,” Mrs. Finnish moan. “Oh, honey, that feels so goo—ahmm!”
Mrs. Finnish put one hand to her lips to silence the loud moan she made when my tongue began to flick back and forth on her nipple. My free hand had reached inside her bra and scooped out her other fat breast from the neck of her shirt. The large breast hung low and stretched her shirt, but Mrs. Finnish didn’t seem to mind.
“Jesus, Matt, Matt—no, Matt, I don’t think… I don’t know if…” Mrs. Finnish’s breath became stuttered and short as she gasped and shook. “Oh my God.”
My right hand roughly massaged one breast as my lips sucked and pulled at the other. My cock was so hard it formed close to a baseball bat in my jeans.
“Oh, God! No! Ohhh, shhhhiit!” Mrs. Finnish suddenly panicked and started to hyperventilate before stealing a deep gasp of air. Her thighs clamped together and her hands clasped to the back of my head, filling my mouth with her tit, until finally it happened. “God! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my… Goddd!”
Mrs. Finnish cried as she came and came hard. Her entire body trembled and I heard the gush of juices behind me that was loud enough for me to lift off her chest and see a large wet spot in the crotch of her jeans.
God, she squirted! I thought, stunned. Part of me had always wondered if this was a real thing or if squirting was just porn magic, but she really just did it.
A minute later, the tremors subsided, and Mrs. Finnish gasped desperate breaths as she realized the state that she was in. Suddenly, her eyes went wide when she realized how soaked her jeans were and exposed her breasts were.
“Oh, no! Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed—I’m so sorry, Matthew. I just—It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by another man. I have to go.”
Mrs. Finnish went to stand to leave, and I paused her with a hand on her arm. “Mrs. Finnish, please wait. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.”
“I should have never—this is my fault, honey. I’m sorry,” she shook her head, still apologizing. “You should go. You should go home. I should have never…”
“Well, I don’t—I can’t really go home like this.”
“Like what?”
I leaned back into the couch, revealing the massive tent in my jeans that could no longer be hidden.
“Oh, Jesus,” Mrs. Finnish gasped at the sight and rubbed a hand over her face but continued to steal looks at it. She thought for a moment before shaking her head, “we can’t—I can’t… you can, um, take care of it if you need to, honey, I understand, but after you, um, you really need to go home.”
Mrs. Finnish was beginning to push her breasts back inside her shirt when I paused her.
“Could—could you leave them out for just right now?” I asked, grabbing my bulging crotch.
“Oh…” she sighed puzzling her breasts. “I suppose a few more minutes would be fine.”
Slowly I unbuttoned and unzipped on her couch while my mature neighbor watched intently. If I hadn’t been so drunk on horniness my anxiety would have been through the roof, but all I could think of at that moment was her breasts and how badly I needed to cum. Mrs. Finnish gasped when my hard cock bounced free from my boxers. The head of my shaft glistened with pre-cum.
Stroking my shaft, I watched my neighbor watch me. Her eyes locked on my cock as I pumped it. She saw me leering at her bare breasts as I stroked, and she turned to give me a better angle on them. When she saw the dribble of precum begin to leak, she even groped her own breasts and pushed them together. I was so close to cumming from the get-go that I didn’t last long.
When she saw the telltale signs that I was about to cum, she panicked.
“Oh, no, don’t—not on my couch, please. Oh dear…” she muttered as she saw my cock was pointing so that I was about to shoot my load on her couch and carpet. She extended her arm, cupping her hand inches above my head to control my spunk.
Instinctively, I reached up and grabbed her hand, thinking she was offering, and wrapped it around my pulsating cock.
“Oh, um, honey—honey, we shouldn’t—I can’t… Oh, God…” Mrs. Finnish hesitated as her tiny hand wrapped around my large shaft. She held my slippery shaft as I bucked my hips and groaned until I exploded. Mrs. Finnish had just enough time to get her other hand up and over my head to block my cum as her other hand jerked me off. Her luscious tits swayed as she moved with my bucking hips. “Oh, my God. Oh, dear…”
When the euphoria waned, I took in Mrs. Finnish and saw her sitting on the edge of the couch. The older woman’s tits hung out the neck of her shirt, the crotch and inner thighs of her jeans were dark blue and soaked, and her palms were glistening with my semen.
“Okay, um… okay,” Mrs. Finnish stuttered as she looked from one hand to the other. “Um, y-you should go home now. W-We don’t have to tell anyone about this, right?”
“Okay,” I said, zipping up my pants. “No, I won’t tell anyone about this. I swear.”
“Okay, um, I’ve uh, I’m going to go clean up some,” she said and hurried off to a bathroom.
I left Mrs. Finnish’s house and crossed the street in a daze. So much so that when I went inside my house, I didn’t even hear my Mom the first time.
“Matt!” she repeated my name, and I snapped out of my trance.
“Hm? Oh, sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
She huffed, shaking her head. Mom was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen floors by the look of the swifter in her hands. “Sometimes I just don’t know where you go in your head. You need to pay attention more.”
“Right, sorry.”
“Saw you working hard this morning gardening. Did Mrs. Finnish appreciate it?”
“Y-Yes, she did, I think,” I replied.
“Where were you this afternoon? I didn’t see you gardening,” she probed with a raised eyebrow.
“This afternoon?” I hesitated and shifted my weight, “Um, she—she had some chores inside she needed help with, and, um, she made me lunch. So that was nice.”
Mother smiled. “That is nice. See how much better things are when you treat people with respect?”
“Yes, yes I do,” I said, hiding a smirk.
“Well, if she needs your help with anything else, you don’t hesitate. I don’t want to hear any if, ands, or buts. You’ve got three weeks left in this house before you leave for college and I want you to consider yourself at Mrs. Finnish’s disposal, you hear me?”
I smiled, nodding, “Yes, yes, I do.”
