1. Mrs. Cartwright


    Date: 8/23/2015, Categories: MILF, Author: LarsKaiden, Rating: 11, Source: LushStories

    see where things were going, but at the time it didn’t seem so obvious. It was more of a hope or a wish that the signals I was getting were real. I looked at her while she continued to drive. I wanted to put my hand into her lovely blonde curls and stroke her neck. I wanted to kiss her beautiful red lips while looking into her light green eyes. Mostly, I wanted to slip my hand between her delicate thighs, but of course I didn’t. Instead, I continued to blush profusely in silence for the next five minutes until we arrived at her place. “Thank you very much for your help, Lee,” she said, “Would it be too much to ask to help me carry these pots into the greenhouse?” “Not at all,” I replied, eager to help and reluctant to leave her. Five minutes later we had finished putting all the plants away. I thought for a moment that it was the end of my daydream. I was getting ready to go home feeling deflated and that perhaps the signals were all in my mind. “Would you like a drink for your efforts?” she asked, “I’ve just made some fresh fruit juice.” “Yes please,” I practically gulped. --- Once inside the house, she made a point of kicking off her high heels, saying how much more comfortable she felt with bare feet. Not surprisingly, they were beautifully manicured with polish matching her fingernails. She took the juice from the fridge, poured two glasses, and told me to take a seat. I sat down on the couch whereas she sat down on an armchair opposite me, cross-legged. She flicked her ...
    hair casually, once again making me feel horny, but also for the first time thinking about her husband and what he would think of me being there chatting with his wife. “What do you do in your spare time, Lee?” she asked. She put emphasis on my name, as though probing into my private life. I felt like she was assuming that a Lee was different than a Joe or a Doug. She specifically wanted to know what a Lee does. She could have just asked what I do, but because of calling out my name, I felt like I had to give an interesting answer. “Not much,” I said, pathetically. So much for being interesting. “No girlfriend?” she continued. “No, Mrs. Cartwright,” I answered. She practically rolled off the couch laughing. I tried to understand why she found that so funny, but I had to wait for what seemed like forever before she resumed the conversation. “No, Mrs. Cartwright,” she mimicked, before bursting out laughing once again. “What’s so funny?” I asked honestly. “When you get to my age, you’ll know,” she said, “When younger people think of you only as Mrs. This or Mr. That, it’s as though there’s a barrier between age groups. I’m not all THAT old!” “I’m sorry,” I said, “What should I call you?” She stood up and sat down next to me on the couch, dangling her bare leg over my knee, pushing her torso into me so that when I looked down, I could clearly see her breasts down the front of her blouse. She stared me straight in the eyes, her lips so close to mine that I could practically have ...
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