Jo lay back on the porch couch, her legs spread wide as Dan thrust his hard cock in and out of her. He lasted almost two minutes before he started to cum. His sweaty fifteen-year-old body slapped against Jo’s thirty something thighs as he shot his cum inside her. He had done this nearly a dozen times over the course of a long hot summer. His staying power had improved somewhat, but it appeared to me that his interest and intensity had diminished. I was watching, as usual, unseen from the next room.
Jo also seemed to have lost some of her initial excitement in these teenage trysts. After a few minutes of fairly hard sex with Dan’s good sized cock, she was just getting warmed up. As usual, Dan’s buddy Steve was right there, his own cock in hand, ready to go next. The third member of the trio, Bill, was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t been there for the previous week’s play time with Jo either.
Dan pulled out and left Jo laying back, legs apart. A thread of his semen decorated her cunt. Steve, the wise guy leader of the group looked at that and shook his head.
“I don’t want sloppy seconds” he said “Here, why don’t you just blow me?”
He stepped toward Jo, his cock in one hand, pointing toward her face. Jo looked at him, surprised for a moment, then angry. She sat up, closing her legs.
“Fuck you! I’m not good enough for you all of a sudden? A few weeks ago you were begging to fuck me!”
“But ... but...” Steve began to realize he had made a serious tactical error. “But you always let me go first!” His voice lost all the bravado of a moment ago. Jo looked at him and shook her head.
“I let you go first because you’ve got the smallest cock. I didn’t think I would even feel you if you went after the other guys.”
Steve almost doubled over in anguish. His cock drooped limply in his hand, living down to the insult Jo had just given him. He avoided looking at her as he scrambled to get his shorts and leave. Dan left with him, but with a bit of a smirk on his face. He’d gotten off with Jo and gotten over on Steve. Not a bad day for him.
That night Jo and I lay together in bed.
“I don’t think it’s working out too well with those boys.” she said.
Though she was well aware that I knew what she had been doing, we seldom acknowledged it directly. Jo had used sex with the lawn mowing boys as way to push my buttons and have a wild sexual experience — something she seemed to need to do sometimes. But after her initial adventure, the thing had just continued for weeks into the summer.
“What’s not working out?” I kept my voice neutral and pushed her to address the situation directly. A little revenge for me.
“My ... uh my um ‘involvement’ with them. I think it isn’t such a good idea. I think we should stop having them mow for us.”
Inside, I was yelling “I told you so”, but I knew that I would only end up paying dearly if I tried to say that. In any way. On the other hand, I couldn’t resist a little jab.
“You don’t like the job they do?”
Jo glared at me and I began to worry that I had gone too far. Then she seemed to think twice and she let her head fall back on her pillow.
“No, I think I made a mistake about them. I thought they really appreciated me, that maybe they could learn something from me and ... Oh, I don’t know. I guess I thought it could be something special. But today one of them just started to treat me like, well he just was taking me for granted.”
It’s funny how many times Jo has had sex with other men in situations where it was all but impossible for me to ignore and yet she never acknowledged my presence. She had to know that I was aware of her “encounter” that afternoon and that there was a very good chance I had witnessed it — as I had. But with a couple very notable exceptions, she never admitted that she knew. There was a lot more than that simple irony in Jo’s statement about the afternoon. The not being taken for granted part goes a long way toward explaining why she does some of the things she does. That and a strong sexual drive and a particular fondness for somewhat outrageous sex and very big cocks.
“Ok. Tomorrow I’ll call the kids’ folks and tell them we don’t need anymore lawn mowing. It’s Dan, Steve and Bill, right?”
“Thanks. But you don’t need to call Bill. His Mom called last week and said he couldn’t work anymore.”
That was news to me, and something about it was unsettling. But I didn’t have much chance to think twice, as Jo had some other ideas for my immediate attention. She snuggled close to me and we began making out. My mouth pressed against hers, my hands roamed over her beautiful full breasts and my mouth soon followed. I worked my way down her body, parting her legs so I had access to her pussy. As I licked and sucked her cunt lips and clit and fingered inside her, I remembered watching Dan pump his hard cock in and out of her earlier that day. Maybe Jo remembered as well. Either way, she started coming and pressed her crotch hard against my face.
I guess that having been worked up earlier then denied the chance to come made this a better than usual orgasm for Jo. She always liked the way I did her orally, but this time she came harder and longer than usual. When she finally was finished, I was rock hard and ready to enter her. But as I rose up to do so, Jo put a hand on my chest and pushed me back gently. I lay back as she took my cock in her mouth.
This was unusual. We frequently got into a nice 69, but Jo almost never gave me head this way. That was too bad, because she really did it well. As I had sometimes seen with other men. In moments I felt myself starting to come. Jo hung in there and took it all down her throat. I lay back drained in every sense and she lay down beside me. We kissed some more then both fell off to sleep.
The next day was Sunday. I decided to wait one more day before calling the boys to cancel “mowing”. I figured it would be better to let a day go by after the last little scene. Besides, on Monday I could call from work, somehow that seemed more professional and I figured I would be more likely to reach the boys’ Moms. That also seemed to put some distance between recent events and this reaction.
At work Monday I followed through. Dan’s Mom answered when I called, as I had hoped. I explained that as I had more free time during August and the grass was growing slower in the heat (both true), there was no further need for Dan’s “services”. His Mom was pleasant and sounded understanding. No problem.
I called Steve’s house and Steve answered. Not what I’d hoped for, but oh well. I gave him the same story I had given Dan’s Mom. There was a silence on his end as I finished, then he abruptly said “Yeah, well whatever.” and hung up. That left me a bit troubled. I told myself to watch out, if there were going to be problems, that was where they’d come from. I turned out to be only half right.
Then I decided to call Bill’s house. Jo had told me he was through anyway, but I figured it would be best just to make sure. Bill seemed to me to be kind of on the slow side and I wanted to make sure things were cleared up. Besides that, Bill was the one with the big 8 inch dick. The other guys had usually just warmed Jo up so she could get some serious meat from Bill. I didn’t want him turning up unexpectedly.
I called and Bill’s Mom answered. I gave her the story and again, no problems. I was glad I called though because she told me Bill had been at camp for two weeks and that was why he hadn’t been out to mow. If I hadn’t called, he probably would have been there on Saturday.
I felt good about all that. True, Steve was a little worrying, but I figured it was unlikely that he’d go telling tales about the woman who wouldn’t blow him and called his dick small. Even if she had let him screw her several times before that.
The rest of my day went well. That night, as we were again in bed, Jo hesitantly began to ask “Did you call...?” I stopped her before she had to say more and just told her that I had taken care of everything. She obviously was relieved that it was done and that I had not made her get into a discussion about the whole thing. As a reward, I got to be part of a really sweet session of love making. This time there was no oral foreplay from either of us, but just the slow pleasurable sex that can only happen between two people who know each other very well.
Tuesday I was still feeling the glow from a couple nights of great sex and the knowledge that I had come through for Jo, making a potentially tough thing easy. That’s what I do best in a relationship. Sometimes. I was on a high and by the end of the day had managed to cruise through all the projects that had demanded my attention before I could take some vacation. I was at least a day ahead of my expected schedule. That meant no more work for two and a half weeks. Elated, I said goodbye to everyone else at work, told them I’d see them in a few weeks and headed home.
Out of the air conditioned office, I realized just how hot the day had gotten. It was steamy. I drove home, windows down, tie off, shirt unbuttoned. When I got home I saw all the indications that Jo had gotten started on the gin and tonics early. The third of a lime on the kitchen counter, empty ice cube tray, tonic bottle left out and much of a fifth of gin gone. I looked in the living room and saw Jo passed out on the couch.
I wasn’t too concerned. Jo’s drinking was a sporadic thing. She would go weeks drinking very little, then binge some for a while. As long as things were ok between us, like then, there wasn’t much to worry about. Besides, I felt too good to worry much about all that. So I decided to fix myself a drink to celebrate.
I was about two thirds through my g&t when I heard a vehicle pull up. We live in a fairly isolated spot, so that got my attention. I got up and looked out the window. The vehicle was a pickup, not new but well maintained. The single occupant stepped out and after a short hesitation, headed for the front door. He was a big guy and as he got closer I could see he was also not a happy guy.
Though I had seen him coming, I waited for the knock on the door instead of just opening it up. I tried to figure out who he was, but he was completely unfamiliar to me. The knock finally came, but it took longer than I expected. As though he had again hesitated at the door. When it came, it was a firm, loud knock. Once, twice, three times then a pause. I opened the door.
I’d like to say I came face to face with this guy, but that would be a lie. He practically towered over me, standing at least 6’6’’. I changed my estimate of his expression from unhappy to just plain angry.
“I need to talk to you.” was all he said as he all but pushed me aside to enter the house. I closed the door behind him and took further stock. He was definitely all of 6/6 and very muscular to boot. It wasn’t hard to see that, as he was dressed in khaki shorts and a tank top. From the way his sandy hair was matted and his deep tan, I guessed he worked construction and his hard hat was still in the truck. The battered work boots also advertised that this was not a leisure time outfit for him.
I heard Jo stir in the next room, aroused no doubt by the noise. The guy turned to me and said “I want to talk to you about the way your wife is messing with my son.” His tone indicated that this was not going to be a pleasant chat. My mind raced, my heart raced, I could see that Jo’s little summer adventure had gotten us in deep shit. I began to worry. No, worry isn’t the word for it, I was scared shitless that this whole thing would end up in court, either as a huge scandal or as a murder. In the latter case, I had a real fear that I would be the victim. I anticipated serious pain.
“Who the hell are you?”
Jo stood at the entrance to the living room, arms akimbo, challenging the giant.
He looked at her and I swear he melted a bit. He almost seemed an inch shorter. Jo also wore khaki shorts and a tank top, but the effect was quite different on her. She was bare foot instead of booted, smooth where he was muscled, almost equally tanned, but the way her nipples stood out against her thin shirt made that comparison an afterthought.
His tone changed some, not quite to the “aw shucks” that I would have hoped for, but it at least approximated civil human sounds.
“I’m Billy’s dad. I just talked to him, and he’s pretty worked up about the way you led him on and then just dropped him.”
The big guy seemed to be thinking twice about his original ‘loaded for bear’ approach. It was easy for Jo to motion him into the living room, saying “Come on in. Lets talk.”
As she did, she looked over his shoulder (not as easy a thing as you might think!) and tossed her head to indicate that I should get out of there. I was confused and didn’t move for a moment so Jo made it all the more emphatic by closing the door to the living room behind her as she ushered the big guy in. I was left standing there, wondering what that all meant.
A number of things fought to be at the top of my mind. What was going on in there? Was this guy going to confront her about fucking his son? That seemed pretty certain. What was she going to do about it? Get angry and defensive? That wouldn’t be out of line with what I knew about Jo. I half expected her to start yelling “nazi pig” at him and chase him out. So he could beat me up.
On the other hand, he could be just the kind of guy she liked to fuck. If the rest of him matched his outward appearance. Would she screw him to get him to lay off? What about that closed door? That was something she had only done once before in all our years together. And I still didn’t know what had been going on that time.
I was still pumped with adrenaline and undecided about what I could do. I tried putting my ear to the door. I thought I could hear conversation, but mostly I heard my own pulse pounding. I stepped away, thinking I could go outside and peek in the window. Then I rejected that. I’d have to get something to stand on and I’d be totally visible as I looked in. All the same, I stepped out the front door to survey the possibilities. They didn’t look any better than I had imagined.
I walked halfway around the house, trying to figure out a way to see what was happening and all the time knowing that there wasn’t anything satisfactory. I went back in and put my ear to the door again. Again I thought I heard voices, but my heart was pounding even more than before, figuring that the door could open any time. Finally, I went back outside and sat on the front step. I had calmed down a fair bit when I thought I heard the living room door open inside. I stood up and stepped away from the front door. In a moment, it opened and the big guy exited. He walked past me and gave me a noncommittal sort of glance as he headed back to his truck. The front door stayed open behind him and I reentered the house as he drove away.
Jo was standing by the entrance to the living room. She looked calm. I took special note of her clothes. They seemed undisturbed. I felt some relief that whatever had happened, she probably had remained dressed for it. That wouldn’t preclude a blowjob, but that really wasn’t her style. Unless it was part of something more.
It was a delicate moment. My mind screamed for me to press for information but I knew Jo too well. If I was going to find out what went on, I’d have to let her tell me in her own way and her own time.
So I did what should have been my first impulse anyway. I asked if she was OK. Jo looked relieved that I wasn’t going for the interrogation. She said “Yeah, but that was pretty heavy.”
I didn’t press for details. Instead I fixed each of us a drink. And I waited until Jo was ready to talk about what had happened.
That didn’t happen until some time later that night. Again, we were in bed. I was pretending to be interested in a book, Jo was lying back with another drink in her hand. Out of nowhere she asked, “You know why Roger was so pissed off today?”
My first two impulses were to ask who Roger was, which was pretty easy to guess, or to suggest he was pissed because Jo had been screwing his fifteen-year-old son for a couple months. I held back on both and at the risk of sounding like a simpleton, simply said “No, why?”
Jo got a wistful, almost teary expression. The alcohol probably contributed to that. “His son Billy has a crush on me. When he came back from camp and found out you had called and said he couldn’t work here, it broke his heart.”
I felt like screaming. “Has a crush on you? What the hell! You’ve been letting him fuck you for weeks!” But I didn’t. I kept my peace and let her finish what she had started.
“Why did you have to call his mom and tell her he was done? He got back from camp, the best time of his life and that’s what he had to hear! He’s got learning problems. He’s slower than most boys. It wasn’t right.”
The alcohol had definitely taken Jo beyond normal reason. The sarcastic side of me commented internally “Yeah, he’s slower than most boys. That’s why you liked him so much. He didn’t come in a minute.” Instead, I tried to be somewhat logical.
“So what would have happened if I hadn’t called? He would have shown up here next Saturday. What would you have done then?”
“I don’t know. But I would have been more sensitive to him!”
All of a sudden there was this anger that I had not at all been prepared for. I didn’t know what to do, so I just put my book aside and lay back. After several minutes, Jo did the same with her drink and shut out the light. We both slept after a while but without any tenderness.
The next day, despite the uncomfortable night, I slept in. About 10:00 Jo rolled over, looked at the clock and sat up. She shook me. “Oh my god, you’re late for work!”
I yawned lazily and reminded her that I was on vacation.
“I thought that started tomorrow!”
“No, I told you. I finished up early. I don’t have to go back for over two weeks.”
I had told her, but it was after the whole scene with Roger and I suppose it wasn’t too surprising she had forgotten. Still, she seemed really hung up on it.
“You’re sure? There’s nothing you have to go in for?”
I reassured her and tried to take advantage of the situation to initiate some morning sex. But Jo was distracted and not receptive. I shrugged it off. If she had half the hangover I had, it was understandable. I laid back in bed as Jo got up and went to the shower.
I dozed a bit, then rolled over and looked at the clock. It was after 10:30. I got up, had my own shower and then dressed casually for the hot day to come. When I got downstairs, Jo was already out weeding the garden. I had some coffee and a bite to eat, then sat on the porch to read the newspaper and mail. Around 11:30 Jo came in. There was something off about the way she looked at me as she headed into the house and began to do some cleaning up in the kitchen. I called in to her and offered to help, but she declined. Still, there was something almost nervous in her voice.
Just after noon, the phone rang. Jo had it before the first ring ended. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, her voice was low, but the call lasted a couple minutes. I waited until I heard her hang up, then went inside.
“Who was that?”
“Oh, uh,” Jo fumbled a second then brightened a bit. “That was Roger. He apologized for yesterday. He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry if he was rude to you.”
That felt pretty Ok. I had begun to worry that something funny was going on, but now it just seemed that Jo just hadn’t expected me to be around that day and probably had some residual shakes from last night’s booze. But something still seemed to hang in the air. I couldn’t pin it down until Jo did it for me.
“Uh, I’m going into town in a little while.”
I nodded and offered to go along.
“Maybe we could have lunch at the Café.”
“No. You don’t understand. Roger’s picking me up. He’s got the afternoon off and he’ll be here in a bit. I’ve got to go change.”
That knocked me right back. I found my voice though and spoke as Jo turned away.
“What? You’re going out with Roger? The guy comes in here yesterday ready to kill someone, today he calls to apologize to me and at the same time ask you out? What’s that all about?”
“Look, yesterday when we talked, he asked about you. I told him that we’re roommates, not married. It’s the truth. Anyway, he probably would have beaten you up if he thought we had a relationship.”
“So you’re saying that you’re doing this for me? You’re going out on a date with some other guy to help me out? Thanks a lot!”
At that, Jo’s eyes flashed and her anger stirred. “Alright, so he’s a good looking guy! And when I told him we weren’t a couple, he asked me out. And you know what? I said yes. The rest of it’s none of your damn business!”
With that she stormed away and went to change. I thought of following her to continue the argument, but I knew it was too late. Nothing good could come from it. All that could happen was that Jo would decide to take things even further.
Upstairs, Jo changed her clothes, but not her outfit. She just switched to another pair of shorts and another tank top — her summer uniform. I don’t know if she changed her panties, but when she came downstairs, I could see that she had discarded her bra. She didn’t usually wear one anyway, except for working or exercising outdoors. Still, it upset me to see her ready to meet Roger with her nipples pushing hard against the thin fabric of her top.
I struggled to find something to say, but came up empty. I heard the truck pull into the yard and Jo just said “Here he is.” as she headed out the door. I must have looked pretty pathetic because she stopped in the doorway, turned and brushed one hand over my cheek. Her expression had changed from tight determination to something I guess was just pity. Then she turned and left.
I watched through the window as she climbed into Roger’s truck. All pity, determination and anger were gone from her face. She just looked happy.
Agitated, I began to pace around the house. At first I tried to think of things I could do. I considered getting in my car to follow them, but then what? If I caught up to them I could make a scene, tell Roger that Jo and I were lovers, ruin their plans. And what would come of it? Jo would only get more determined to keep me from controlling her. And Roger, well he could really mess up my day. Not to mention my face.
Besides, what Jo had told him wasn’t totally untrue. We weren’t married, though Jo knew I would wed her anytime she wanted. I had stopped asking a long time ago, but the offer was still good. In fact, she had made it a sort of condition that she move in with me as a roommate. She paid a share of the bills, though again I had offered to cover all the expenses. She even had her own room. In a four bedroom house, we had space to spare. Jo’s room adjoined our bedroom through the walk-in closet. She had a bed there and kept some personal possessions there as well. Once in a great while she even slept there. Jo’s past had included some pretty traumatic events and there were times when she needed space and privacy to sort through her memories and her feelings.
I began to grasp at straws to reassure myself. Trying to use logic to overcome unbearable emotion. Going into Spock mode. Jo had said Roger took the afternoon off. Still, he had to get home to the wife and kid sometime. A good blue collar guy like that probably expected dinner on the table by 6:00. And at the same time, his wife probably would allow him time for a few quick beers after work, but his ass would be in a sling if he was very late. Especially as it was only Wednesday. He had to be up early for work the next day.
So that left some hours for him and Jo to do whatever, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t the type (or the income bracket) to get a motel room. There was every reason to believe that they might have some drinks, find a quiet place to park the truck, maybe get it on, but that wasn’t anything too extreme for Jo. Nothing we hadn’t been able to deal with before. Probably a one-time thing.
He’d drop her off before 6:00 and she’d come in a bit drunk and maybe defensive. I could handle it.
And if not? Well, there was always Roger’s wife. I had talked to her just two days ago. She sounded nice. Push come to shove, he’s not likely to drop her, pay alimony and child support to be with Jo. I began to feel a little better.
Still, I had nothing much to do and a lot of reason to stay occupied to keep this mess off my mind. So I cleaned the house and began to prepare a nice supper. I’m a pretty fair cook when I have time to work at it and I got a nice meal ready to just cook and serve. I figured that when Jo came home, I’d woo her with domestic charm and pretend to ignore the afternoon. The only way things could get unpleasant would be if she made them unpleasant. It wasn’t going to be my fault if this situation got bad.
By 5:00 or so I began stepping to the window every time I thought I heard a vehicle. A few went by as most folks ended their working day, but no sign of Jo. That was OK. I hadn’t expected her much before 6 anyway.
6:00 came and went. What little traffic had been going by seemed to end altogether. The nicely set table began to look foolish to me. I felt flashes of impatience, even frustrated rage. There was a temptation to smash all the dishes. Instead, I fixed (another) drink.
By 8:30 I was pretty hammered. I thought of driving into town to try to find Jo, but fortunately what remained of common sense told me no. A DWI arrest wouldn’t make a bad night better. I nibbled at some of the food I’d prepared, but the alcohol was making me feel full. Finally, about 9:30, as the last light of the day was gone, I stumbled to bed and passed out.
Sometime in the wee morning hours I woke. For a moment I forgot the troubles of the day but as I reached to the other side of the bed and found it empty, I remembered. My head felt really bad. Then I heard a vehicle door shut outside. I must have been awakened when it pulled in. My heart began to race as I heard the front door open and close. After what seemed like forever, I heard someone on the stairs.
I lay still as Jo came into the bedroom. My eyes were accustomed to the dark and I could see her outline as she peeled off her clothes then slid onto the bed. “Hi.”
Jo startled as I spoke.
“You’re still up?”
“I was sleeping. I heard you coming in.”
There was a long silence. It was a waiting game — who would speak first. Finally I broke. But only slightly.
Jo wasn’t going to give in that easily.
“So, uh, how was your day?”
“Fine.” There was a lengthy pause, “How was yours?”
I weighed my options briefly, then went for it.
“Shitty. I didn’t know where you were all day and most of the night. I tried to make a nice dinner for you, but you weren’t here, you didn’t even call. Now you show up at whatever o’clock in the morning and ask me about my day!”
“Yeah? Well you asked first, like nothing was up! You really want to know about my day? It was great! Roger took me out to lunch, then we went back to his place. And we had a real good time.”
“His place? His wife must’ve really loved that!”
“His wife? What are you ... they’ve been divorced for years. He’s got a place in the city. That’s where we went.”
I didn’t know what to say. The scenario I had constructed in my own head crumbled as what Jo said hit me. Roger was a single guy. This might not be just an impulse fuck. Everything was different. And not a good sort of different. I lay back, silent for a minute or two. Then Jo went on.
“He’s a big man.”
“Yeah, I could see that.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
I knew what she meant. Especially as I wasn’t such a big man, in either sense.
“It felt really good. To have a real man like that.” Jo turned on her side to face me and leaned on her elbow as she continued to talk.
“God! He is so big! I almost passed out when we ... we did it. I haven’t felt anything like that in a long time. Maybe ever.”
I squirmed uncomfortably beside her. Jo’s voice took on a slightly nasty edge. “He wanted me to stay all night, but I made him take me home. I didn’t think I’d be able to walk tomorrow if he made it with me one more time.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
There really wasn’t anything else for me to say. I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. Jo lay silent beside me but our bodies didn’t touch. I don’t know how long it took her to get to sleep, but for me it seemed like a long time.
I got up the next morning feeling shitty all over. I hurt inside and out. Jo slept late. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I ended up taking a drive into town and picking up some stuff at the hardware store. That done, I still didn’t want to go home. I didn’t know what to say to Jo or what it would be like to be around her. I stopped into the Cafe and had a little early lunch, it was only about 11:00. Then I drove slowly home.
On the way, I stopped into the tiny store just before the turn off for the house. I realized I was out of beer and had a strong suspicion I’d be wanting some later. The day was getting hot and lunch had only barely taken the edge off my hangover.