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I'll Mow the Lawn

Debbie was the girl next door. Not the kid that I'd watched grow up nor the kid I'd grown up with. She just happened to be the girl that lived next door when I moved into a new house. She was a pretty brunette with chocolate eyes and a sweet figure. I certainly didn't mind seeing her around. Trouble is, I was in my early thirties and she was in her late teens. Fair game, and all that, but I was of the wrong age bracket as far as she was concerned.

I had established a cordial relationship with her and her family, partly because it's smart to get on with your neighbours, partly because I'm a nice guy, and partly because I liked looking at her. I had noticed her looking back a couple of times but I could almost see the too old flag pop up when she did see me.

On another subject entirely, scientists say that the increase of carbon dioxide in our atmosphere, rather than bringing around climate change, was causing a proliferation of plant life, with forests and crops flourishing around the world. Part of that proliferation of plant life was the lawn in my back yard. This spring you could practically see the grass growing, generally accompanied by a faint rustle as each blade fought with its neighbours for the right to grow.

This rapid growth was kept under control in my yard by the application of a motor mower on a fairly regular basis. Next door, my neighbours had gone away for a couple of weeks, leaving Debbie behind. Debbie wasn't quite so keen on mowing and the grass was growing quite long over there.

As everyone knows, the correct way to start a mower is to pull the cord, swear at the damn machine, pull the cord harder, swear harder, and eventually you reach a point where either the swearing or the pulling works and the mower starts. I'd just finished my mowing and was putting the mower away when I heard some swearing coming from next door, accompanied by the sound of a mower not starting.

"Trouble, Debbie?" I asked, leaning over the fence and watching her.

Well worth watching, too. She had on short shorts showing a very nice pair of legs and a t-shirt that was struggling to contain her breasts. I envied that t-shirt. I wouldn't mind holding those particular breasts.

She looked up and glared at me, her face plainly saying what do you think, you idiot. Her language was more temperate.

"The stupid mower won't start," she grumbled. "I have to do the lawn before dad gets back home or he'll go spare. Stupid grass."

"The problem is that you're trying to cut the grass the way a man would do it. You should tackle it from a woman's perspective."

"Oh, really? And just how do I do that?" she demanded.

"Quite simple. You come over here, take off your clothes, have a bout of wild and wanton sex with me, than tell me to mow your lawns. By that time I'd be your willing slave and I would rush to do as you command."

"Right. Like that's going to happen," she scoffed.

"Ah, why isn't it going to happen?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because it doesn't make sense, that's why."

"Makes sense to me. I get seduced by a willing young woman and you get your lawns done. What's wrong with that?"

"People just don't do that sort of thing."

"Of course they do. It happens all the time. Maybe I was a little unrefined in the way I suggested it but that's just me. So, are you coming over?"

"I just said no. Weren't you listening?"

"Well, yes, but that was just your knee-jerk reaction. Now you've had a chance to consider it a bit more and can see the advantages."

"What advantages?"

"You get your lawns mowed, your father is kept happy, you make me your willing slave, and you also get laid. These are all pluses from your point of view, surely."

"You had me right up to the point where I have to get laid. To put it in language that you understand, I don't want to fuck you."

"Why not?"

"Why not?"

"We're repeating again. Putting it another way, what's the problem with having sex with me? I know I'd enjoy it and I'd do my best to make sure you did to."

"Has it occurred to you that I'm a virgin?"

"No, but it occurs to me that you're trying to mislead me. A virgin wouldn't have reacted the way you did to a suggestion she have sex in such a casual manner."

"You don't know that."

"Ah, no, I don't, but then again, I don't care."

"You just want to have sex with me."

"Well, yes. Why else do you think I made this offer?"

"You're way too old."

"If you're considering going steady or marrying me then yes, I'm probably too old. You'll find I'm not too old to have sex, though. Talking over the fence like this is silly. Hold on a moment."

I took a step back and then leapt at the fence, catching the top and vaulting neatly over it. The grass, I found when I landed, was at least a foot high.

"Wow. The grass is a bit long, isn't it," I said cheerfully. "You'll have your work cut out trimming this lot."

"I'm not helpless," she snapped. "I can do it."

"I have no doubt, but why should you when I'm willing to do it for you. All you'll have to do is relax and let me do all the work."

"Maybe, but it's the type of work you want to do that has me worried. Why did you do that?"

While she'd been talking I'd moved closer and when close enough I'd reached over and flicked open the button at the top of her shorts.

"I'm just helping you," I defended. "When all the talking is done I'm sure that you'll see things my way so I just thought I'd undress you while we discuss it."

"You stop that," she said with a gasp, taking a hurried step backwards.

Seeing she hadn't immediately pushed my hand away I'd just naturally continued with what I was doing, pushing the zip of her shorts down which coincidentally left me with my hand pressed against her mound. That backwards step broke contact, unfortunately.

"Just who do you think you are?" she demanded. "I've already said no."

True, she had, but she'd kept right on discussing the issue. For a genuine no she'd have curtailed the conversation.

I moved closer again, fingers plucking at her top, pulling it out from her shorts. She was slapping at my hands while I did so, being amazingly ineffectual in her efforts. With the top free of her shorts I started lifting it.

"Raise your arms," I suggested, giving little upward tugs to the top.

She did, somewhat to my surprise, and I lifted her top up and off.

I stepped back, wanting to be able to see her properly. She was glaring at me, face flushed. A very nice picture to review, in my opinion, her breasts neatly cupped by a lacy bra. Maybe half-cupped would be a better description as there seemed to be a lot of breast on display.

"Satisfied?" she demanded. "I suppose you're going to take the rest of my things off now."

That was a direct invitation but I wasn't biting. I shook my head.

"I wouldn't do that," I protested. "It would be too much like coercion to forcibly strip you. Not at all polite. I'd much rather stand back where I can watch you take them off."

"But," she said in a half wail, "why do you want to have sex with me?"

"Because you're eighteen and beautiful. Because it's spring. Because you're a delight to look upon. Because I would enjoy it very much and hope you will too. Because - because I want you."

She stood there, chewing on her lip, fingers idly plucking at her shorts, which she had not done up I noticed. Suddenly a resolute look crossed her face and she flushed and I knew she'd made up her mind. Hopefully the right way.

It was dreadfully hard to maintain a straight face when she took a firmer hold of her shorts and pushed them down. They may have been tight around her hips and her neat little bottom but once pushed down a little they slipped to the ground with no problems, leaving her to step daintily out of them. Her panties followed moments later, with Debbie standing side-on to spoil the view. With her panties gone it was time for the bra and it seemed to me she was more nervous about taking her bra off than her panties.

She turned to face me with her hands crossed demurely in front of her groin but with no attempt to hide her breasts. I did my best to show her my appreciation of her figure, running my eyes slowly over her. With a small sigh I took her wrists and moved her hands to her sides, taking my time looking her over again while she stood there, blushing furiously.

She had actually got the mower running at one stage and cut a small section of the lawn. (I was willing to bet that her mower problem would be no fuel.) I took her hand and led her to the mown section of the lawn, coaxing her down onto the grass. A little bit of teasing and she was down on all fours, looking over her shoulder at me. I settled onto the grass next to her.

One hand cupped a dangling breast while the other slipped between her legs, starting to massage her. She squirmed a little, her breath coming slightly faster, but made no protest. Taking my time I teased and stroked her breasts while at the same time applying a constant and rhythmic massage to her pussy.

My fingers dipped and explored, petted and massaged. A careful probe showed that she wasn't virginal which left me more at ease. I could feel her heat and dampness increasing and she was becoming restless, wanting something more.

My hands dropped away from her body and she turned her head to see what I was doing. Seeing I was undoing my trousers she continued watching, her eyes bright with interest. It seemed she wanted to know what she was going to get. I pushed my trousers and shorts down, letting my erection spring forth. Seeing Debbie didn't scream and try to flee or, worse, point and laugh, I guess what I was offering was acceptable.

Not wanting Debbie to suffer from a rush of common sense I moved rapidly but without unseemly haste. She gasped as she felt my cock pressing against her and then gave a startled little cry as I drove firmly in. My preparatory work paid off, my cock sinking deep with no problems. She didn't actually push towards me to welcome me home but neither was there any protest or pulling away. I continued pushing firmly until I was completely inside her, my hands slipping around her to hold her breasts.

I started pumping her in a nice leisurely manner, getting a feel for her responses and encouraging her to move with me. I whispered quiet words to her, telling her how wonderful she felt, how her skin was like warm silk, letting my words wander past her ears, praising her as I moved.

It didn't take her long to adjust to the flow, moving with me, sighing softly in contentment as I took her. After a while I picked up the pace slightly, feeling her adjust and move with me. The sighs and soft sounds she was making were taking on a more urgent note as her excitement built.

One again I picked up the pace and we were coming together in a fairly fast rhythm. Now her voice was all excitement and wanting, the contentment pushed out with a lusty passion taking its place. Hands fondling her breasts as we moved I drove in hard, giving her everything I had.

Well, not quite everything. I wanted this to last a little longer so it paid to keep a little in my tank. I still took her hard, relishing her eager response.

Finally I judged it was time to go. I picked up speed one last time, going in hard and fast, keen to drive her over the edge before I collapsed from exhaustion. A few of these faster strokes and she was making odd sounds, feeling her climax coming and wanting it. Another couple of strokes and she was wailing softly as she shuddered beneath me, her climax just sweeping her away.

Mine went well, too, draining my gonads of all that I had, letting her have the lot. Spent, I slumped down onto the grass next to her.

Not that I was given long to rest.

"The lawn," she stated, sitting up.

Sighing, I rose to my feet, straightening my clothes as I did so. I checked out the mower and turned back to her.

"Any gas?" I asked her, the look on her face worth the effort I was going to have to put in. She strolled into the garage, returning with a can.

I filled the tank and the mower started with no problems. I proceeded to cut the grass, keeping one eye on Debbie as I did so. She was well worth looking at as she hadn't bothered to get dressed, just lolling about on the cut section enjoying watching me work, knowing I was watching her as I did so.

I finally finished and I'd done a good job, even if I do say so myself.

"There you go, Debbie," I said. "All done. And just in time, too."

"What do you mean?"

"I think that's your dad's car out on the road waiting to turn into the drive. Ah, you may want to get dressed before he gets here."

I departed via the back fence, leaving Debbie hastily scrounging for her clothes.

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