Carlos let out a throaty laugh.
“You guys can head out back,” Mrs. Jones said. “I’ll get you those beers while you get started. I’m just going to slip into something more comfortable.”
She tossed her keys on the table and headed up the stairs.
“Can you believe this?” said Carlos as they headed out back.
“What I believe is that we need to do a good job so she’ll ask us back,” said Enrique.
Carlos frowned. He wasn’t a repeat customer kind of guy. Enrique knew that he would be doing most of the work, but that would be fine. Maybe next time he wouldn’t be so kind and let Carlos know that Mrs. Jones needed more work done in her back yard.
Enrique found the mower and hedge cutter in the garage. The two men got down to work. Carlos spent twenty minutes on one already perfectly manicured bush while Enrique pushed the mower across the large lawn.
Thirty minutes later, Mrs. Jones came out into the back yard. She was in those same heels, but gone was the straining shirt and skirt with the split. She had on the tiniest bikini Enrique had ever seen. She also had the most banging body he’d ever seen.
She sauntered those hips over to him with a beer in hand. “You guys making out okay?” she asked.
He tore his eyes off her tits and accepted the beer.
Carlos spoke up. “You actually have a lot of growth. It’ll take us a few more hours to do the job just right.”
Enrique opened his mouth to interject, but Mrs. Jones shrugged.
“Take as much time as you need to do it right,” she said. “Do you mind if I sun bathe?”
“Not at all,” said Carlos.
She went over to the lawn chairs. Enrique couldn’t stop staring at her ass cheeks as she retreated.
How was her ass so round and firm? How did her tits points straight up? They had to be fake. But they had a jiggle to them that he knew only came with real, live flesh. Then again, if she was willing to spend this much money on her grass, she probably had enough money to get a good boob job.
Mrs. Jones sat her perfect ass down and leaned back. A moment later, Enrique knew her breasts were the real deal because she took her bikini top off and laid her torso back.
Mrs. Jones had started her day annoyed. That prissy bitch next door had come over to post a notice on her front door about her grass. A few days ago it had been about the mailbox she’d chosen. Yesterday, it was about the black garbage can that should have been green like every one else’s on the street. Mrs. Smith obviously wasn’t getting enough attention at home if she had time to knock on other people’s doors to cause trouble.
Mrs. Jones had planned to ignore the woman and her notice when she saw the two men standing at the corner while she’d been out shopping. They would help her catch two birds in her bush. She’d get her lawn mowed, and she’d get her pussy plowed as well.
“Is this bothering you?” she asked the shy one. She hadn’t gotten either of their names. She didn’t need them. She just needed their cocks. Maybe their tongues first.
Shy guy couldn’t work his tongue at the moment. It was tangled as he eyed her breasts.
“If it’s bothering you I can cover up,” she challenged.
He could only stare like he hadn’t seen a tit in a long time. Perfect. She liked a man beside himself with want. Luckily for him, she was a giver. She’d give him exactly what he wanted. After she toyed with him a bit more.
“No, no,” said his buddy. The cocky one. “It’s your home. You do what is most comfortable to you.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Because I usually sunbathe in the nude.” She wrapped her thumbs in the floss of her bikini bottom. “Unless that’s a problem?”
Now the cocky one was caught off guard. His mouth hung open, and he gaped.
“Do you think you can help me with my bottom?” she said. “I tied the knot too tight.”
The cocky one blinked. His feet went into motion ahead of the rest of his body. His dirty fingers landed on her pristine knot. He gave a yank and a tug. One half of the triangle folded down revealing her bare pussy. Cocky Boy stared for a moment, along with his shy buddy. The mowing was momentarily forgotten.
She raised her hip, indicating the other knot. After a second, Cocky Boy got to work. In a minute she was free. And completely bare.
“Ah,” she sighed. “That’s so much better. Can I ask you for another favor? Sun tan lotion?” She handed him the bottle. Then she stretched her arms over her head and arched her back.
The Cocky Boy made the sign of the cross, eyes to the sky, hands in a grateful prayer. Then he got to rubbing her down.
He had rough hands. They rubbed her breasts. She inhaled and arched into his calluses.
“Can you put a little more on the nipples?”
He obliged, rubbing the slippery oil over her hard points with the rough pads of his thumbs. It was just what she needed after her morning annoyance. She was laid out in the sun with a stranger rubbing his hands all over her body while another strange man watched.
“Don’t forget the crotch area,” she said. “Wouldn’t want to burn there.”
Cocky Boy’s hands trembled as his fingertips rubbed over her flat belly and down to her pubic bone. His fingers shook as they rubbed at the V between her legs.
“And in the creases of the inner thigh.”
She spread her legs and then let them fall open at the knees. Cocky Boy’s mouth was watering as he rubbed her inner thighs, so close to her labia. His buddy hadn’t moved an inch. He may not have blinked or taken a breath since she took off her bikini top.
“Can I ask you one more huge favor?” she asked the handsy, cocky one.
“Anything?”
“Would you mind terribly going down on me? I’ve had a rough morning and I need to relax. I’ll totally return the favor and give you a blow job.”
Cocky Boy’s eyes actually teared. He let out a whimpering sound before his mouth could form words. And he had to speak twice because the first time he spoke it was in his native language. “Si, I can do that for you.”
Cocky Boy’s head disappeared between her thighs. As he took a moment to inhale her scent and say another prayer in Spanish, her eyes latched onto his shy buddy.
“What’s your name?” she asked him.
Shy Guy’s mouth worked a moment until finally his name rolled off his tongue.
“Enrique,” she purred as his friend licked at her clit. “Did you see that box of condoms I had in my car?”
Enrique nodded.
“Would you fetch them for me? I have a feeling we’re going to need the whole box.”
Carlos had fantasized about a moment like this many a time. He’d told tales about it while he stood on street corners, inside Home Depot parking lots, waiting to get picked up by some gringo who would take his inferiority out on Carlos for a few hours of the day. But never had he thought something like this would actually happen.
He was buried between the thighs of a rich white woman who wanted to use him for sex. Just seeing her naked body had been the best he’d had in months. Touching her body with lotion had made his dick harder than it’d ever been in his life. And now his mouth was latched on her bare cunt. And fuck if her pussy wasn’t sweet.
He didn’t normally like eating pussy. It was a means to an end in his sex life. It’s what he did for a couple of minutes to get his dick into a woman’s warm cunt. He’d usually get it over with fast, just make sure she was wet enough to take him, and then he’d shove his dick inside her. But eating out Mrs. Jones was a party in his mouth.
He heard Enrique come back through the gate. At least he hoped it was Enrique. He hadn’t missed the ring on Mrs. Jones’ finger or the portrait of her very big husband on the wall in the living room. Even if it was her husband, Carlos doubted he’d be torn away from this pussy and its sweet nectar.
“You want a taste too, Shy Guy?”
Carlos heard Enrique grunt a response.
Mrs. Jones gave Carlos’ he
ad a tug. Carlos took a for more suckles before releasing her.
“I promised you some head,” she said as Carlos backed away. “Come on up here.”
Carlos undid his pants as Enrique sank to his knees. Carlos licked his lips as Enrique tested her clit with little flicks. He saw the little bud jump and jerk. Carlos wanted to shove his friend aside and get back down on his knees. He wanted to soak up the juices running down Mrs. Jones’ inner thighs.
He hadn’t made her come. He felt deprived of the extra juices that would spill out of her. But then Mrs. Jones grabbed his cock and put her tongue on him, and Carlos stopped thinking charitable thoughts.
She took him deep, deeper than any girl had ever done before. Carlos’ knees nearly buckled. Tears came to his eyes.
She moaned around Carlos’ throbbing cock as Enrique covered her entire pussy with his mouth. Through slitted eyes, Carlos saw his buddy spreading Mrs. Jones’ legs wider. Whatever his friend was doing he needed to tell him to keep doing it because the result was fucking fantastic on his end.
Mrs. Jones had him deep down her throat, but she was also rolling her tongue. She released him with a pop and suckled the head of his cock. She flicked her tongue at the underside of his dick. Carlos grit his teeth and held onto the back of the lawn chair. He was going to come and soon. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to nut off immediately. He wanted this to last.
As he was nearing the end of his will, Mrs. Jones released him. “Switch,” she demanded. She yanked Enrique’s head off her cunt. To Carlos she said, “Condom. On. Now.”
Carlos did as he was told as Enrique dropped his pants to his ankles. Carlos pulled the condom on his throbbing dick which was ready to spill at the feel of the condom rolling on. He climbed on the lawn chair and was confronted with those two perfect tits which he had believed to be fake. He leaned down and tasted one nipple.
Fuck, even rich people’s sun lotion tasted sweet. Or maybe it was just the taste of her. He swirled his tongue around her stiff bud. He gave her nipple a tug.
That excited her. So, he did it again. She writhed beneath Carlos, rubbing her wet cunt against his eager dick which stood at the ready at her slippery entrance.
Carlos sucked on her nipple as he watched his friend’s cock disappear into her mouth. He could see the imprint Enrique’s dick made in her throat. It made his own dick even harder at the memories of when he’d gone down that same path.
Carlos released her breasts reluctantly when his dick throbbing against her core made him unable to stay away any longer. He spread her thighs. She wasn’t a tiny woman, but her cunt took him in easily. Once he was inside her, he realized that she was running the show at both ends.
Mrs. Jones squeezed her pussy muscles and held his dick in a vice grip inside of her. Up top she worked Enrique’s balls into her mouth. Carlos’ balls tingled as he began to slap them against her ass in a rhythm he wasn’t in control of.
He was going at her hard, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she met him stroke for stroke. Her ass rising up to meet his thrusts, her cunt squeezing at his retreat.
The three of them were a human centipede. Their bodies joined at each end of her. She matched the throat action she gave to Enrique with the cunt action she gave to Carlos, fucking them equally, in unison.
The sight and sound and feel was too much for Carlos. He exploded inside her. It was the best fucking orgasm he’d ever had in his life and he was so sorry for it. He wished this moment would never end.
She released Enrique’s cock and looked down at Carlos. She crooked a finger at him. “Come here. Let me lick your balls while your friend fucks me.”
Praise Baby Jesus. It wasn’t about to end any time soon.
Enrique had never had a woman suck his cock before. He’d only had two serious girlfriends. And by serious, he meant that they had sex together. Both women had been good girls, making him wait before they let him between her thighs. Then, once each woman had, the sex had been very tame.
Kisses on the lips. A few touches of the breasts. All missionary. Always under the covers. At night with the lights out.
But here he was, out in the open, in someone’s backyard where anyone could happen upon them, where anyone could hear them. And he didn’t give a single, solitary fuck.
He’d never tasted cunt before. Now he didn’t know how he’d survived without it. He’d never had a woman touch his balls, much less put them both in her mouth. After this, these two items in his sex life would be mandatory. If a woman wasn’t willing to do these two things, he’d move on. Or he’d stay here in Mrs. Jones’ backyard waiting for her to spread her thighs for him again. He’d suck her cunt for days.
But now she was offering her sweet-tasting cunt up to his eager dick.
He switched places with Carlos, who walked like a man who’d just run two marathons. If licking her cunt had nearly made Enrique blow his load, he could only imagine what fucking that treasure trove would do to him. He strapped a condom on and prepared to find out.
Mrs. Jones sat up and let Carlos sit down on the lawn chair. She turned over on to all fours and buried her face in Carlos’ lap while offering Enrique her ass.
For a second Enrique thought she might want him to put his dick in her ass. The thought thrilled him. He’d never considered doing that to a woman. But her cunt lips glistened and beckoned to him.
He got between her thighs and thrust into pink lips, but he eyed that puckered whole, wondering if it might ever be available to him. From this angle he went deeper into her pretty pussy, deeper than his tongue ever could.
For her part, Mrs. Jones sucked him even deeper inside her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her pink lips as his brown dick disappeared into her. The contrast was hypnotizing.
Soon his thrusts were harder, faster. He didn’t want to hurt her. But the harder he went, the faster he went, the more she shoved back at him, sending him even deeper into him. Which also sent her face deeper into Carlos’ lap.
Carlos had his eyes closed. He looked like he was at the crossroads of heaven and hell with pain and pleasure alternating on his face.
Enrique wanted to slow down and enjoy it all, but he felt his orgasm coming. He felt her walls massaging him. He felt her trembling around him. He was going to make her come. That excited him to no end.
Her panting came louder, her breathing more erratic. She lost the control she had over his cock which allowed Enrique to take the reins for a moment. He pushed deep into her, not retreating fully. Mrs. Jones let out a sigh of pure satisfaction and it nearly did him in.
Her pussy clamped around him. If this was what a woman’s orgasm felt like, his past partners had lied to him. He’d never felt anything like this. He felt like he was a cow and her cunt was milking his dick, squeezing every ounce of his essence out of him as she lapped it up inside of her.
And she did the same with Carlos. As Enrique thrust his last drop into her, he saw Carlos coming again. He spilled onto her waiting tongue. The sight sent a shudder through Enrique. He wished he had let loose in her mouth so that she could swallow him down.
“That was fantastic,” she said, licking her lips.
She came to stand as both Enrique and Carlos were collapsed down onto the lawn chair. She stood on steady feet, naked and perfect, looking like a sex goddess in the afternoon sunlight.
“I’m going to go get cleaned up,” she said. “You guys let me know when you’re finished out here and I’ll give you a ride back into town.”
Carlos and Enrique lay panting on the lawn chair as she picked up her discarded bathing suit and walked back toward the house. Before she opened the door, she turned and looked over her shoulder.
“Oh, and you guys are getting a huge tip for all the good work you just did.”
The Welcome Wagon
These new neighbors were not their type of people. Already, Mrs. Smith had to cite them for their overgrown grass which was an inch and a half too tall. Their mailbox was a plain gray box fro
m Home Depot and not the Victorian-style of the rest of the houses along the street. And for the love of God, they had placed a black trashcan out on trash day that clashed with all the other green cans.
Now Mrs. Smith had to cite them for the motorcycle that the two of them had driven through the neighborhood on just an hour ago. Those weren’t allowed. There was the issue of noise pollution and the danger it could pose to the children who played in the cul de sac.
Mrs. Smith’s husband had told her to let it go, but there were rules. The Homeowner’s Association had voted on it. If she just let people ignore the rules, everyone would go crazy. And so, she marched up the steps of the front stoop to the Joneses’ house and knocked.
Mrs. Smith had thought when the new couple moved in that they might be the type for bridge. But one look at Mrs. Jones and her scanty outfits and colorful choices of makeup and high heels told her that she was not bridge material. This afternoon, the woman came to the door in a bath towel.
“Oh,” she leaned against the doorjamb. “It’s you. What’s crawled up your butt today, Mrs. Smith?”
Mrs. Smith bristled at her tone. “Hi, I just wanted to talk with you about the motorcycle.”
“Come on in then.” Mrs. Jones backed away from the door. Her feet were bare and as she moved the towel split to reveal that she was naked beneath.
“Oh, no I don’t need to come in.”
Mrs. Jones turned her back and walked further into the house. Mrs. Smith took a tentative step over the threshold and then closed the door behind her. The soft snick resounded in her ear. She looked down at the door and turned the knob assuring herself that it hadn’t locked.
“Honey,” Mrs. Jones called out. “Mrs. Smith is here about your bike.”
Mr. Smith came into the room. Like his wife, his feet were bare. Unlike his wife he wasn’t wearing a towel. He was totally nude. Mrs. Smith got an eyeful of all of him before she turned away. But the size and thickness of his manhood was forever burned into her head.
Keeping It Up with the Joneses Page 4