Mrs. Adleson Chapter One Part One

She was Mrs. Adleson to me then, hell, I guess she still is.  I think she goes by Margery to her friends.  It’s been since I was a kid and I still think she’s hot.  She’s probably in her mid to late forties now, but still very attractive.  I don’t know how many times I’ve fantasized about her over the years but I’ve never let on.  I’ve always been polite and courteous to her and I’m sure she will always think of me as that sweet little boy who used to drink lemonade with her and her husband on the porch after mowing their yard once a week every summer when I was in middle school.

When I worked in the grocery store as a teenager she would come in.  I would follow her to the milk aisle because the cold air from the cooler would make her nipples hard, poking through her blouse.

I’m in my twenties now and I still get excited just watching her work her flower garden from across the street at my parents house, bending over to pull weeds, inviting my eyes to dance along her beautiful cleavage.  She notices me and waves, I wave back with a smile.  If she only knew, she would be so disappointed with me.

I visit my parents once a week and always check to see if Mrs. Adleson is outside which she usually is.  The times she’s not, my visits are longer because I linger hoping she’ll venture out.

The reason for visiting today is my dad needs help getting rid of an old stump in the back yard.  We waited until late so it wouldn’t be so hot, but it’s still a sauna out here.  Halfway through the job we decide to call it a night to finish up tomorrow.

I go to the front porch to cool off.  Sitting there in another world.

“Are you thirsty?”  It’s Mrs. Adleson in one of her classic flowery dresses that go to the knees showing her calves.

“Thank you Mrs. Adleson, quite thirsty,” I answer.

“It’s really sweet of you to help your parents out the way you do.  You’re a good son,” she says, looking proud.

“Thanks.  That’s sweet of you to say,” I reply.

She wouldn’t think I was so sweet if she knew I was checking her curves out in that tight-fitting dress.  I feel under-dressed.  She always dresses so nice, even to do yard work.  I’m sitting here wearing a tank top, a sweaty pair of shorts, and tennis shoes.

I notice a bra strap barely peeking through the shoulder of her dress.  I think it’s black.  Jesus, I never would have dreamed she would wear a black bra.  I look further down and I can see a nipple trying to pierce the fabric of her dress.

I don’t know how long I stared at it before coming to reality and realizing we haven’t said anything in over a minute.  I look up.  She has a shocked look on her face, eyes huge, and mouth open as if trying to say something, but not being able to.  I thought she caught me staring at her tits until I follow her gaze.  She’s looking at my crotch.  I look down.  Holy shit!  My dick had somehow worked its way out of one of the legs of my shorts and is now bobbing in the air as hard as a rock for the whole world to see.  Staring at it for a moment in disbelief I look up at Mrs. Adleson with the same expression on her face.

She drops her glass, shattering on the steps “I’ve got to go.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” trying to work it back in my shorts.

“It’s okay.  Just nature I guess.  I’ve really got to go!” she turns red.

Oh my gawd.  Mrs. Adleson has seen my stuff.  What a nightmare.  Shit, I hope she doesn’t tell my parents.  It would kill them.

She’s running back to her house.  She must think I’m a perv.  Going inside without a glance back she slams the door.  I wonder if Mr. Adleson will emerge to have a talk with me or maybe even to whip my ass?

Waiting for thirty or so minutes nobody emerges from their house.  I can’t take it anymore and head to her front door,  Knocking, I get no reply, no answer.  I finally give up with the weight of the situation on my shoulders feeling heavy enough to crush me.

~~~~~

I walk back across the street into my parents yard.  It's almost dark now. The crickets are chirping happily, no clue of what I just did to my neighbor.  I get in my car and put the key in the ignition without turning it.  Sitting frozen for a moment, I pull the key back out.  I better say bye to my parents or they will get worried.  Heading up the steps to the front door, I turn around and head back to Mrs. Adleson’s.

Fuck it.  I won't be able to sleep tonight.  I have to make her understand this was an accident, that I'm not a pervert.  I get to her front door and just as my hand is hovering in the knock position I hear a muffled argument inside.  She must have told Mr. Adleson and they are disagreeing on what to do about it.

Instead of knocking I decide to check things out before proceeding.  Walking very lithely, I creep to each window flanking the door.  I can see through the crack in the curtains in one of the windows.  Mr. Adleson sits in his recliner, watching TV, eating popcorn, the only light is coming from the television giving him a faint blue glow and strobe effect while he eats.  Not a care in the world from the looks of it.  The argument must have been on a show.  She may not have told him.  My curiosity is killing me now.  What is she doing?

I check each window until I see her in the one behind the house. This is the kitchen.  I've peeked in these windows many times growing up hoping to catch her in the middle of changing clothes.  She's chopping cucumbers on a wooden panel by the sink, very slowly and carefully with a worried look on her face.

I stop watching and rest my back on the wall by the window, sliding down to the ground.  I don't know what to do.  She won't answer the door.  I can't leave just yet.  I have to make sure she's okay.

The sounds of the crickets and frogs usually bring me peace, but tonight it seems like they are mocking me.

I can't sit here all night.  I stand back up, scraping my back on the window seal.  At the moment I look back in, Mrs. Adelson cuts her thumb with the knife, jerking and dropping it in the sink, she places it in her mouth, saying something angrily under her breath.  I've never seen her mad before.  Hell, I've never seen her in any other mood but happy for that matter.

She checks the cut already bleeding again and turns the faucet to clean it.  Her hand hits a large pot, knocking it over into the sink, splashing soapy water all over her.  Angry to the point of tears, she removes the wet hair from her face, cursing some more.  Looking down at her drenched dress clinging to her body she stomps her foot and starts unbuttoning it in the back.

I can't believe this.  I've been fantasizing about this since I was a kid, and here she is stripping in front of me unknowingly.  Just moments ago I felt like I was in Hell, now I'm in Heaven.

Loosening the top of her dress completely in the back, she slides the front down her arms until it's dangling from her waist, exposing large, full, breast, covered only by a thin black bra.  It's so tight, that her skin pooches over the edges.  Her skin glistens from the soapy water that worked it's way through the fabric.

Sticking her thumbs under the cloth on each side of her waist she works her dress down and over her hips with some trouble.  I never noticed how tight her dresses really were, I mean I knew they were snug, but she really has to work to simply get it off.  Once past her waist it falls to the floor with ease. My view now is remarkable.  Standing in front of the sink in her black bra and panties.  Her milky skin a big contrast to the black fabric.

There's thunder in the distance.  She doesn't seem to hear it.  Her left hand on her left hip, the other rubbing her slippery belly, apparently contemplating what to do next.
Grabbing a small towel from beside the sink, she dries her face, then her chest and stomach.  She stops, sets the towel back on the counter, puts her thumbs under the straps on the sides of her panties and pushes them down her legs.  I can see her pussy, I'll be damned if it's not shaved bare, but it is.  She shaves her pussy, bald.

Standing up straight she reaches behind her and unclasps her bra and pulls it off like she did the dress.  Her beautiful plump breast look relieved, like they can breath again.

continued in Mrs. Adleson Chapter One Part Two