Fixing Mrs. Sanders' Pipes
Add: 8 October 2015 / 16:00
When I was young, my parents wanted to teach me the value of a dollar and the pleasure of hard work. They purchased a riding mower, weed trimmer and a small trailer to hook behind the mower for me. Dad talked to some of the neighbors and negotiated prices for my services. It didn’t take long until my summer vacation was booked.
I would start on Monday mornings, and with cooperation from the weather I would finish up by Friday afternoon. The first time was the hardest. Everyone liked their lawn mowed a certain way. Once I learned that, the rest was a piece of cake. I averaged at least two lawns a day, and was always done in time to still have fun with my friends in the afternoons.
My favorite lawn to mow was always Mrs. Sanders’. Mrs. Sanders and her husband were both teachers at the high school. At first, she was my favorite because she would always have ice cold lemonade for me when I arrived at her house. She would place the lemonade in a sports bottle that fit perfectly in my cup holder. When she noticed that the bottle was running low, she would come out and refill it. She made the best lemonade.
Years went by, and my business continued to thrive. Eventually, as I got older, I expanded my business. Not only did I mow and trim the lawns, but I added in pool cleaning and minor home repairing. The home repair and pool care part of the business helped to keep the money coming, even in the winter.
I also saved up enough money to buy myself a truck. It wasn't new, but it was good enough for me. I started to pull the mower with the truck and was able to expand my business. While my other friends were out partying, I was working and making money. Sports and extracurricular activities cut into my profits, so I went to school, then went to work. I worked six, sometimes seven days a week.
My hard work had allowed me to build up a pretty good nest egg for a sixteen year old boy. It had also done pretty good at building my body. My work was mostly outside, and in Georgia it was hot in the summer, so I worked most of the time in shorts, boots and no shirt. The sun gave me a pretty good tan. The work had toned my muscles and had me in real good shape.
When I was younger I was not popular in school, but once the girls realized I was making money they swarmed to me like bees to honey. I went out with a couple of them, but it didn’t take me long to realize that dating meant spending money. I went out, but not often.
My business continued to flourish. As the neighbor's kids began to grow up I would lose one, but always had another to replace it. By the time I turned seventeen, the only original customer I had was the Sanders. Their yard was still my favorite one to work, but it was no longer just for the lemonade.
As the years went by, and I went through puberty, I began to notice Mrs. Sanders’ womanly features. For reasons beyond my knowing, the Sanders’ had never had children, so Mrs. Sanders’ body never changed over those years. She had a thin waist, round hips and a very nice set of tits. I loved to watch her walk toward me with the lemonade. I equally enjoyed watching her walk back to the house.
Like all teenaged boys, I had discovered masturbation and practiced it regularly. Mrs. Sanders always seemed to enter my fantasies while I pleased myself. I could see her blue eyes looking up at me while I pushed my cock between her legs. That thought always brought me to climax. Afterwards, I would feel ashamed. The lady had been nothing but sweet to me all these years, and I had no right thinking of her in such a sinful manner.
Over the Christmas break of my senior year I received a call from Mrs. Sanders. She asked me to come over because there was water leaking under the sink, and Mr. Sanders was away for the weekend, so I jumped into my truck and headed over.
I always kept fittings and pipe joints in my truck, so when I got to her house, I grabbed a box of the fittings, some glue and a pipe wrench and headed to her door. I knocked on her door. When she opened the door, my jaw dropped and my eyes widened. For a moment, I forgot what I had been called for.
Mrs. Sanders had apparently not expected to have guests, and her busted pipe had not allowed her the time to change. She stood in the door with an over-sized t-shirt and from what I could tell at the time, nothing else. The water from her pipe had drenched her shirt and it clung to her like a second skin. Her small, perky breasts stared at me as I stood there.
Her desperate call for help broke my trance. I went to work and tried to get her image out of my head. Her kitchen floor was puddled in water. I knelt down and reached under the sink to turn the water off. Then I pulled some glue and fittings out of the box and began to replace the busted pipe. As I worked, Mrs. Sanders began to mop the water up from the floor. As I laid on my back under the sink, all I could see was her long, toned legs and pretty bare feet walking back and forth.
I was enjoying my view, and lingered under the sink longer than normal. As I watched her, her wet attire didn’t leave much for my teenage imagination. I began to feel a swelling in my jeans, and knew it was time to get out of Dodge before my naughty thoughts were discovered. I pulled myself out from under the sink and turned the water back on. I stood and turned on the faucet to check for leaks. I knelt back down and looked at my repair. There was no leak, so the problem was fixed - or so I thought.
Still on my knees, I turned around to tell Mrs. Sanders I was done, but when I turned, she was standing right in front of me. My face was inches from her covered pussy. I froze. My first impulse was to bury my face in her. I lifted my head, and looked past her breasts and at her pretty face as she looked down at me. As I rose to my feet, I could feel my erection as it pressed against my wet jeans.
She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me as she thanked me for coming so late. I assured her it was my pleasure, more of a pleasure than she knew. I could feel her breasts press into my chest. The feeling was almost unbearable. I needed to go, and fast.
As I broke the embrace, her fingers lingered on my neck and caressed it with her soft fingers. I looked down into her blue eyes and saw a look that I didn’t recognize. Her eyes were always bright and full of life, but at that moment, they had the look of loneliness.
I pulled away, and began to walk toward the door but she stopped me. “Jake, you are soaking wet. You can’t go out in the cold with those wet clothes on, you will catch pneumonia.”
“I am fine, Mrs. Sanders. It’s not that cold out,” I replied.
“Nonsense, I believe I may have some old clothes of Donald’s that will fit you. Go into the bathroom and take those clothes off, and let me see,” she said as she walked toward the back of her house.
I was reluctant. My jeans were soaked, but it would not have been the first time I had gone out in the cold with wet clothes. I could tell she was not going to take no for an answer, so I went into the bathroom and peeled the wet clothes off of my body. I laid my jeans and shirt on the sink and stood in my boxers and waited for her to bring me some clothes.
There was a knock on the door, and before I could open it, Mrs. Sanders came on in. Embarrassed was not strong enough to describe my reaction. My cock still had not gone all the way down from the embrace we had shared and was pushed against the front of my boxers. I immediately covered it with my hands, before she saw it.
Mrs. Sanders had also changed out of her wet clothes; she had replaced her over-sized t-shirt with another one that was not as over-sized. The new shirt barely covered her heart-shaped ass. I could see the material of her pink panties when she raised her arms to hand me a robe. The new shirt hugged her bare breasts like a glove. I could see her pebble sized nipples pressed tight against the material of the shirt.
“I could not find any clothes, I must have already taken them to Goodwill. Put that robe on, and I will wash and dry your clothes. I already took the liberty of calling your parents and told them of our predicament, so they will not expect you home for a while,” she explained, then winked at me.
I stood there with the robe in my hand as she turned and walked away. I could not take my eyes off of her ass as it swayed back and forth as she walked. I had to shake all the thoughts of Mrs. Sanders out of my head before I could leave the safety of the bathroom. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see her tits and ass. I could smell her hair. I pushed my arms through the arms of the robe and wrapped it around me and tried to conceal my throbbing cock.
I walked to the living room and looked for Mrs. Sanders. I could not see her, but could hear dishes clattering in the kitchen. I walked over to the counter that divided the living room from the kitchen. Mrs. Sanders was pouring some hot chocolate into two cups. When she turned around she smiled at me. She handed me a cup, and I followed her to the living room.
She asked me to sit on the sofa, while she retrieved the remote control to the TV from the coffee table. When she bent to pick it up, her shirt rode up her ass and gave me a perfect view of her milky thighs. While bent over, she looked over her shoulder and caught me looking.
She smiled at me as she turned and walked back to where I was sitting. She sat on the other end of the sofa and pulled her legs under her. I glanced over at her, as she fumbled through the channels to find something to watch, I could see the crotch of her pink panties clearly.
So many things were going through my mind. I was a virgin. I had watched porn and had girly magazines under my mattress, but I had never been so close to another woman with so few clothes on. I kept pulling the robe as I tried to hide my growing erection.
She laid the remote down and took a sip of the hot chocolate. I don’t even remember what was on the TV. All I could think about was what I was going to do. I did not want Mrs. Sanders to think I was a pervert with a raging hard on. I was embarrassed and turned on at the same time. I felt like if I touched my cock, I would cum all over Mr. Sanders’ robe. I was so uncomfortable.
I was relieved when the buzzer went off on the washing machine. Mrs. Sanders got up and walked towards the laundry room. It was hard not to watch her leave, but I closed my eyes tight to hold back the temptation. I opened the robe a little, just enough to re-adjust my throbbing cock so that my waist band would hold it against my stomach. I was retying the sash when she returned.
She sat back down on the sofa, just as before. “Give them an hour or so, and they will be all nice and dry, would you like another cup of hot chocolate?” she asked.
I shook my head, as I didn’t think I could handle watching her walk past me again. I sat there with my eyes glued to the TV, trying to focus on something other than the sexy older woman sitting beside me.
I felt her move closer. “It shouldn’t be too much longer now, Jake,” she said as she laid her hand upon my leg.
Sweat popped out on my forehead and palms. Even though her hand was on top of the robe, the fact a woman had her hand on me was real. My stomach began to churn and I felt like I was going to be sick.
“You have grown into a very nice looking young man, Jake.”
“Thank you ma’am,” I replied with a trembling voice.
As she talked, her hand moved closer to where the robe was overlapped between my legs. My hands were beside me and I gripped the fluffy cushions of Mrs. Sanders’ sofa. My eyes did not leave the TV as I felt her face inch closer to mine. I could feel her warm breath on my cheek.
“It is so nice to have a strong, young man around to help me when my husband is away,” she said before she placed a soft kiss on my chin. Her hand had fumbled through the robe and was now on my bare thigh. My cock was about to explode. No woman had touched me like this before. My balls felt like they were about to boil over.
Her hand moved ever so slowly up my thigh between my skin and the material of my boxers. I felt her nails scrape across my balls and I gasped. She giggled. She pulled her hand away, and tugged on the sash of the robe. Once it was untied, she opened the robe and exposed the head of my hard cock poking out from the waistband of my boxers.
“Mrs. Sanders,” I stuttered.
She placed her finger over my lips, “Sshhh,” was her only reply.
She moved her hand across my stomach and hooked her finger into my boxers. My body reacted by lifting so she could push them down my legs. She pushed them to my knees, then her hand rubbed back up and cupped my balls.
My cock stood at attention and bobbled as she rolled my balls in her hand. Then her hand moved up my shaft. I could not hold back any longer. Ropes of cum shot straight up like an erupting volcano. Cum landed on my stomach and the couch, and the last couple of ropes covered Mrs. Sanders’ fingers.
Mrs. Sanders giggled and continued to stroke my cock. Her movements kept my cock rock hard, which surprised me. She removed her hand and straddled my lap. She reached down and pulled the crotch of her panties over and sat on my cock.
My cocked slipped into her pussy with ease. She was so wet, and she didn't say a word. She placed her hands on my shoulders and began to move her hips. The feeling was amazing. Her pussy squeezed around my hard cock, as she moaned and tossed her head back.
I had watched enough porn to have an idea of what I should do. I put my hands on her round ass and gripped it while I thrust up to drive my cock deeper. Her hands left my shoulder and went to her tits. In no time, she had removed her t-shirt and her firm tits bounced in front of my face.
My hand moved up her back and I pulled her to me. I leaned forward and sucked her hard nipple into my mouth. As I sucked on her nipple, Mrs. Sanders’ continued to bounce on my cock. She moaned loud each time her ass touched my upper thigh. She kept telling me to fuck her, and to suck her tits. I did my best to follow her instructions.
It felt like we fucked for hours, but in reality it was just a few minutes. Her tit in my mouth, her pussy around my cock and her juices running over my balls were too much.
“Mrs. Sanders, I am about to cum,” I exclaimed loudly. I was a good student, I had passed sex-ed so I knew what could happen if I shot my cum inside of her.
Either she didn't hear me, or she didn't care because she didn't let up. My announcement seemed to add to her fire. Her ass bounced harder and faster. Her pussy tightened tighter around my cock. I could not hold back, and with a loud moan I shot my second load of the night, deep inside my neighbor.
My orgasm triggered hers. She bucked wildly on my lap. Her blonde hair was tossed back and forth as she screamed words I didn't think she knew. When she calmed, she was out of breath and laid her head on my shoulder. I could feel my cock finally began to soften.
She took a deep breath and raised her head and lifted off of me. My whole body shivered as my cock slipped from her tight pussy. I felt gobs of my cum run down my balls. She picked up her shirt and wiped my remnants from her thighs with a smile. She turned and I watched her ass wiggle as she walked into the laundry room.
When she returned, I was just like she'd left me. My limp cock still glistened from our combined juices. She smiled and handed me my clothes. I looked at her with a strange look. I didn't understand what I had done wrong. I wanted to fuck her again, but I took the hint. I took my clothes and went to the bathroom to put them on.
When I came out, Mrs. Sanders was waiting beside the counter in the kitchen. When she saw me, she walked over to me and handed me an envelope with my payment for fixing the pipe. I told her she had paid me enough, but she insisted I take the money, and thanked me again for everything. Confused, I walked to the door and left.
That was the last time I did any work for the Sanders. Apparently the night that she and I fucked, Mr Sanders was out of town for a job interview, and was awarded a position at a university on the other side of the state. Within a month of that wonderful night the Sanders house was empty, and my oldest and most faithful customers were gone. Every time I look at that empty house, I cannot help but think back to that wonderful night.