1. A Lifetime in One Moment


    Date: 7/16/2015, Categories: True Story, First Time, Mature, Virginity, Author: Unknow user, Rating: 91.6, Source: sexstories.com

    schedule. She said she would pay you. I think you should tell her you would be happy to do it for free." "Okay." Then my mom walked over to me and made sure she had my attention. "That poor, dear widow. You make sure you are especially kind and nice to her." "I will." My mom smiled. "She is very fond of you, you know." "Really?" "She told me I was very lucky to have such an intelligent, handsome, and considerate young man for a son." "She said that?' My mom only smiled and patted my head. I arrived at Laura's house at eight o'clock that Saturday morning. There was a small guesthouse with a garage in back of the main home, and the garage door was up. Laura was inside, going through some boxes. She waved me in. "Oh thank you for coming, Kevin. It is so sweet of you." She was wearing black stretch culottes that clung to her hips and legs like tights. Her sleeveless powder-blue blouse was open at the neck. Her hair was pulled back in a bob of sun-streaked curls. Her lips were a soft and deep red. As I took her hand, I noticed that her nails were manicured and painted to match her lips. She put her other hand on my shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "I have decided it is time for me to move," she said looking me in the eye. "Like 'move' move?" I asked. "Yes. Move away from here, start a new life. So, today I am cleaning out the garage. All I need your help with is moving the heavy things and getting the stuff from the shelves I can't reach." "You've got it." I spent the next ...
    few hours pulling down garden tools and boxes full of Christmas lights and the like. She organized the stuff, throwing most of it away, and she repackaged and marked the boxes she wanted to keep. At one point she called me over and showed me a large framed picture of her husband and herself in front of a gaping expanse of canyon on what looked to me to be an antique motorcycle. The small, oxidized brass plaque said "The Grand Canyon: July 15, 1953." "We were eighteen then," she said wistfully. "It was our honeymoon." Laura was stunning in the picture. Her hair was longer and blonder, and she was thinner, almost skinny. Peter Hollander's face looked nothing like mine, but in all other respects he could have been me – thick, wavy gold/blonde hair, lanky and tall, a broad smile. And then I did the math, and I almost blurted out something embarrassing; Laura was forty-six years old. She was three years older than my mother. That couldn't be. I looked at her and she was already looking at me. I must have looked a little bewildered because she smiled and her eyes flashed. She was so beautiful, I thought. "Wow," was all I could offer. Then finally I said, "You're a really great looking couple." "Thank you," she said. "Here." she started to reach for my face. "You're going to get hair in your eye." She brushed my hair away from my face. It fell back to where it had been as soon as she pulled her hand away. She laughed. I palpably felt something change between us. For a faint moment, ...
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