1. The Widow Henderson


    Date: 8/24/2015, Categories: Fiction, Anal, Erotica, Mature, Reluctance, Young, Author: Unknow user, Rating: 90.7, Source: sexstories.com

    one of her hands came up and cupped my cheek tenderly as she leaned forward and kissed the other side. "Thank you. You've always been a gentleman, Bradley," she whispered in my ear. I watched her walk toward her house, her tight round ass hypnotizing me as she disappeared out of sight. A small shudder ran through me as I stood there thinking evil thoughts. I reminded myself that today was Thursday and I wouldn't have long before I saw her again. Friday came and went without even a sign of Mrs. Henderson. Saturday I rolled out of bed about nine in the morning, started the coffee pot and took a shower while it brewed. In just my robe, with a hot cup of coffee in my hands, I went out to the deck to enjoy the morning. Mother nature must be in a good mood I thought. The day was starting out with a deep blue sky and lots of bright sunshine, the birds singing in the surrounding trees. I managed to sip half of my coffee without burning my lips, before I became aware of Mrs. Henderson puttering around her yard. It looked like she had been gathering yard tools from her shed. I saw a shovel and rake, and what appeared to be smaller versions of the shovel. Before she noticed me, I took the time to study her attire. She was wearing very baggy tan shorts; a loose fitting green tank top and she had a wide brimmed straw hat on her head. She also had pink running shoes with pink ankle high socks on. Without realizing I had forgot to tie the belt on my robe, I stood up and shouted good ...
    morning to her. She peered in my direction and I watched, puzzled, as her eyes grew big and a hand shot up to cover her mouth. "Oh my. Yes it is a good morning..." she said, her eyes still big. Looking down, I understood what was causing her reaction. I quickly turned away from her and cinched the belt tightly. "Oh god, I'm so, so sorry," I repeated over and over. When I turned back to face her she had moved to the border of our yards and was quietly laughing into her hand. All I could see on her face was amusement and I'm sure all she could see on mine was the burning red of shame and embarrassment. How I could have been so careless was beyond me, especially since I've been coming out here for my morning coffee for a while now. Another one of them up and down things I figured. "I'm so sorry for that Mrs. Henderson," I repeated. "Don't be Bradley, I'm not," she said with a smile. Gathering myself together, I mumbled something about being over to help in a little while then retreated back into my house. Oddly I found the fact that I had just flashed her my junk a little titillating. I drank another cup of coffee before changing into jeans, work boots and a white t-shirt. Mrs. Henderson was sitting at the picnic table that has been a fixture on her patio since I was in my early teens. It was made of wood planks and two-by-fours, with attached benches on either side. She had to lift her leg up and over the bench to stand and I was rewarded with a brief glimpse of thin white cotton ...
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