A Neighborly Affair Part 1 - Sex Stories

A Neighborly Affair Part 1

... material. She tightened it and tied the waist strap which only accentuated her breasts even more. She hugged me and pressed her bosom into me.

"I forgot you said you'd be over today." Her blonde hair was hanging, still wet, as she pulled it into a ponytail and secured it with a rubber band. I tried not to stare at her nipples so I forced myself to look around her living room. A small statuette of a female nude caused me to nervously shift my gaze back to Mrs. Collins.

"I can come back if this is a bad time. You said anytime and your car is in the driveway." I placed my hands in front of me as my shorts started to tent at the sight of her pointy nipples again.

"Oh, no. This is fine, Sweetie. I just need to slip on some clothes real quick. Sit down and make yourself comfortable. Before I change, can I get you something to drink? Water? A beer? Oh, sorry. You're too young, I guess. But I'm having a glass of wine. If you'd like a beer, I won't tell."

"Uh, water's fine, thanks." The fact that Mrs. Collins had offered me a beer made me feel like an adult, but I didn't need to go home with beer on my breath.

"I'll be back in a jiff." She disappeared to the kitchen and returned shortly with a tall glass of ice water and a glass of red wine. Her breasts jiggled tantalizingly with their thin covering as she marched across the living room and sat next to me on the couch. She leaned forward to set the water in front of me, and her robe opened just enough to offer a peek ...

... of the inside of a ripe globe capped with a prominent pink nipple. She leaned back and adjusted the robe self-consciously when she realized it had opened.

"Sorry about that. No one wants to see an old lady's boobs, especially a young stud who probably has his pick of young, perky ones. Mine used to be that way but gravity is a son-of-a-bitch."

"Your boobs are nice, Mrs. Collins. I mean..., I'm sorry. I don't mean to stare, but you have nice boobs. I'm sure," I added quickly as if I hadn't been gawking at them. I was, no doubt, beet-red at this point as I fumbled for the right thing to say. I tried to smile through my embarrassment, but at the same time, my cock was getting uncomfortably harder by the second.

"Well, first, let's drop the Mrs. Collins stuff. That's way too formal. Just call me Linda. Thank you. No one has complimented my boobs in ages, or any part of me for that matter. It IS nice to be noticed."

She took a sip of wine and thrust her chest out and looked down as if to examine them.

"Not bad for forty, though. You should have seen these babies when I was in high school. I was very popular with the boys and my girls were much perkier. But as you probably know, my husband left me for a younger version a few years ago and it's been a long dry spell, not to mention lonely. You're the first man to pay me a compliment in some time–although I suppose I don't get out much anymore to receive any notice. I do try to stay in shape, but mother nature and age ...