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I loved working outdoors. I loved everything about it … the sun, the fresh air, watching the things I plant grow, flourish, and make their surroundings more beautiful. Being outdoors kept me in good physical shape too and the lonely, neglected wives in the ritzy neighborhoods I sometimes worked in seemed to appreciate it.

It was like that as I worked in the backyard of Mrs. Simmons's house. I had worked for Mrs. Simmons before and had caught her checking out my biceps and my ass. She had tried to be inconspicuous, but hey, the ladies know a nice hunk of man when they see one.

Mrs. Simmons was a blonde bombshell; built like a brick icehouse, with the most incredible set of C-cups you had ever seen, not to mention that fine, round ass. She looked good whether she was coming towards you or walking away.

As I put down some new sod in the corners of the privacy fenced-in area by the swimming pool, Mrs. Simmons came out on the deck. When I looked up, I thought my eyes would have a coronary. There she was, this astonishing beautiful woman, dressed in one of the skimpiest yellow and white string bikinis I had ever seen. She looked over her sunglasses and waved at me, her boobies jiggling under the two-inch triangle material of her top.

"Hi Jimmy,” she called out, “the yard is looking real nice."

"Thanks, Mrs. Simmons,” I replied and doing my best to keep my dick from jumping up to say hi too, “all in a day's work."

"I'm going to make some lemonade. Would you like some?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, Mrs. Simmons."

She went back inside through the glass door and I watched her fine ass sway from left to right with every step. Watching her walk was just like watching a Barbie doll come to life. She returned a few minutes later with a pitcher and two glasses of ice and put them on the patio table.

"Come get it before the ice melts,” she called out.

I stood up from my kneeling position on the ground and looked her over again. Damn, that bitch was gorgeous. I was almost afraid to get too close, thinking that the heat from that body might make my dick melt. She was pouring the glasses as I washed my hands off under the garden hose and then walked up to the table.

"I hope you don't mind me being a bit dirty,” I said.

"Nonsense,” she replied, “everything here is washable.” She smiled and then exhaled a breathy “and I mean everything."

I sat down in a folding chair under the umbrella table and took a few big gulps of my drink. She sat on the chaise lounge chair across from me and sipped hers, her eyes roaming over me carefully.

"Are you hungry, Jimmy?” she asked. “Can I fix you something to eat?"

"No ma'am, I'm fine, thank you,” I replied. “I was just getting a little thirsty, that's all."

"Well, you are doing a fine job in the yard,” she told me. “You always make my yard look so pretty."

I watched her mouth as she talked. Her lips were so full and wide that she could probably get them around a foot long horse dick.

"I'm glad you're pleased, ma'am. It's something I enjoy doing."

I could hardly take my eyes off her tits. She had one of those deep well-types of cleavages, so deep you could put a cup of coffee in there to keep the coffee warm and still have room to heat a pop tart.

She finished her drink and put the glass on the table.

"I wonder if I might ask a favor of you,” she began.

"Let me guess,” I teased her, knowing how many times she had changed her mind about the yard, “you decided against the tulips in the corners and want to go back to the roses."

She giggled.

"No, I'd like to stay with the tulips."

"Okay, so what else can I do for you, Mrs. Simmons?” I asked.

She picked up a bottle of sun tan lotion from the small table beside the lounge chair.

"Would you mind rubbing some sun tan lotion on my back?” she asked, holding the bottle out to me. “It's terribly hard to get to it by myself and I don't want an uneven tan."

I swallowed hard, feeling my Adam's apple rise and fall in my throat.

"But … uh … your husband,” I began to stammer.

"He won't be home until dark,” she said with a smile.

Without waiting for an answer, she plopped the bottle in my hands and turned over on her stomach, leaving me with little choice. I moved over to her chaise, sitting on the edge of it, and nervously popped the top of the bottle. Squirting some lotion in my hand, I rubbed them together and then began to rub the cream on her shoulders and upper back.

"You know,” she said, looking back over her shoulder and giving me a little grin, “I do hate tan lines. Would you mind unfastening my top so I can take it off, Jimmy?"

Would I mind? WOULD I MIND?! Was she crazy? I would pay to unfasten her top! I'd tear it off with my teeth, if she'd let me!

I felt my hands beginning to sweat a little and quickly wiped them on my tank top. She looked over her shoulder again and I realized she was waiting for an answer.

"No ma'am,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice under control, “I don't mind at all."

She settled back down on the chaise and folded her hands up under her face. I could see the sides of her incredible tits smashed against the material.

With shaky hands, I pulled the ties that held the top onto her neck and back and let them fall to the sides. If she lifted up at all, her tits would be in plain view.

Going back to my task, I continued spreading the lotion over her now bared back and then down to the top of the bikini bottoms. Being that close to her incredible ass was making my dick strain against my jeans. She felt me stop and looked back.

"Is something wrong, Jimmy?” she asked innocently.

"No ma … ma'am,” I stammered as I resumed applying lotion to the sides of her hips and back of her thighs.

"Mmm … that feels nice,” she said, spreading her legs a little bit and arching her back so that her fine tush was even closer to my face. I couldn't take it anymore. I was beginning to feel like Dustin Hoffman's character opposite Ann Bancroft's character in the movie ‘The Graduate'.

"M … Mrs. Simmons?” I murmured.

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"Um … are you trying to seduce me?"

I saw a slight smile cross her lips.

"Now, Jimmy, would I do that to you?” she asked with mock innocence.

I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Yes, ma'am, I think that you would."

She turned over and sat up and her big, bare, juicy tits were right in my face. I felt my eyes cross.

"Well, you know that my husband works a lot,” she began.

"Yes ma'am, I know."

My dick was turning into a tree branch.

"And you're such an attractive man, Jimmy,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and pulling herself up to me.

Her face was inches away from mine. I looked down. Her titties were so close that I could count the freckles on them. At the ends of her boobies were the most monumental, succulent pink nipples I had ever seen.

"You know you want to touch them, Jimmy,” she said, a smile crossing her face as she saw me looking at them.

"I shouldn't, ma'am."

"But you want to,” she reminded me, moving her hand over the front of my jeans and rubbing her fingers against my crotch.

"But your husband,” I began.

"We won't tell him."

I moved my hand up to hold one of her tits and wrapped my fingers around it, giving it a little squeeze. She closed her eyes and moaned and I felt her nipple harden in my palm. Reaching for my other hand, she moved it between her legs and rubbed my fingers through the material of her swimsuit bottom.

"Mrs. Simmons, you're being a naughty little slut,” I told her.

She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

"Yes I am, Jimmy."

Her hand began stroking my dick.

"Little sluts need to be spanked,” I told her.

"Oh yes, they do, Jimmy."

She was sitting on the chaise beside me. She looked so delicious with her blond hair in disarray and her large breasts shaking with anticipation. Her nipples were erect, seeming permanently excited, and I could see the arousal beginning to dampen her swimsuit bottom.