Three doors up the street lives Jennifer, the most beautiful woman in the neighborhood. Her auburn hair falls to her shoulders in a soft, sexy way. Her broad smile always seems so warm and genuine, a sensuous complement to her perfectly proportioned face. Incredibly, her husband recently divorced her (why in the world, I’ll never know!).
Late one evening I stop by the mailbox on my way in from work. I pick up the mail and find a note from Jennifer, addressed to me. I open it, curious and eager at the same time. It says simply, “I’m sorry to trouble you, but I’m trying to clean out my closets now that Mark has moved out. Would you mind helping me move some boxes to the basement? Jennifer.”
Of course, being the helpful type, I couldn’t wait to agree. I called her but was no answer. I try again the next day and again that evening yet still there is no answer. The next evening, returning from work, late again, I spotted her green Cooper in the driveway. I always liked her car…the sleek lines and emerald metallic color. It matches her green eyes so well.
Determined to respond to her request, I walk up the street and knock on the front door. She answers the door barefooted, dressed in loose jeans and a cotton tee shirt, which accent her terrific figure. I explain about getting her note, trying to call, getting no answer. She smiles and explained she has stopped answering her phone to avoid speaking to her Mark, her ex.
She invited me in and thanks me in advance for helping her. I smile back, “No problem. Where are the boxes?” She tosses “this way, follow me” lightly over her shoulder as she ascends the stairs to the second floor.
She took me into the master bedroom and to the walk-in closet. The boxes were stacked neatly on shelves. As I reach up to grab one, and balance it in my hands, she moves in close behind me and places her hand on my shoulder. “No, not that one,” she says pointing, “the one next to it.”
I reach for the second one and this time she put her other hand around my waist and says, “Is that too heavy? Would you like me to help?” I said, no, but couldn’t help but am aroused by her touch. I muscle the box down, which is quite heavy. She touched my arm as I lift it out of the closet. “You are going to ruin your tie,” she says. So while my hands are full of the box, she proceeds to loosen and remove my tie, all the while looking into my eyes rather than at the tie.
She has long, slender fingers, to match her figure, and bright, green eyes. I said, “Thank you”, and she nods “no problem at all”. I ask her where she wanted the box taken and she shows me the stairs to the basement. As I turn to leave, I notice a dark spot on the front of her blouse, likely dirt from the heavy box I am carrying.
When I return she has removed her cotton shirt and offers “I got some dirt on it. It’s soaking. You don’t mind, do you?” I can’t help but drink in her beautiful body, so soft, so warm, so inviting. “No,” I grin, “Which box is next?” She smiles, her eyes twinkle, and she leads the way back into the closet. As I reach up for the next box, she completely encircles my chest with her arms, snuggling up to me from behind.
The felt her softness behind me heightens my arousal. “Jenny, is everything OK?” I ask trying to defuse the moment. “Yes,” she says softly, “but, really, those boxes can wait”. I leave the box on the shelf and turn around, all the while her arms forming a circle around me. I am drawn to her face as she looks up to me longingly. “It’s been such a long time since Mark left” she sighs, her eyes softening. “I really miss holding a man and having him hold me.” I slip my arms around her, “It’s all right. I know how hard it must be trying to carry on after he moved away.” A tear glistens in her eye and she softly smiled.
I feel my resolve melting, and she presses closer. Now she can’t help but feel my arousal as she presses her body closer, ever so closer to mine.
There we are in the closet. I raise my eyebrows, “Would you like to step out of the closet?” “Yes, I’m sorry to have pinned you in here,” she replies, letting go and turning to walk away, across the bedroom into the adjacent bathroom. “I’ll be out in a second,” she calls out. ” I have to freshen up.”
I assume she wants to wipe her eyes and compose herself. So, I stand around casually, feeling at once a little guilty and deeply aroused. The bathroom door opens a moment later and she is standing there wearing only a silk robe, all the sensuous curves of her divine body glistening under the silk. “I really need you to be with me,” she says softly, gazing inquisitively into my eyes, studying me carefully.
I walk slowly over to her, lean down, and kiss her gently on the lips, and say huskily, “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.” She looks up, then pulls my head down to her, and drinks deeply of my lips. I press myself into her. She leans back from her waist, held upright only by my embrace. As our lips part, she rolls her head backward, exposing her soft neck. After a moment, she straightens up and took a small step backward. She rakes her hair back with one hand and with the other, loosens the silk tie of her robe, which fells open and now hung freely.
She steps forward again, this time taking the initiative, her fingers on the buttons of my shirt. Slowly, she unbuttons each one, never taking her eyes from mine. I feel the heat rising in me. I reach up and slowly drew the robe down from her shoulders leaning over to gently kiss the soft skin of her shoulders, then her neck, grazing gently as she continues with my shirt. Finally, it is open and her hands find my chest. Slowly, she strokes up and down my chest as I looked once again upon her beautiful face.
I lean down to kiss her, but she pulls back. I’m momentarily surprised. Why did she pull back? Have I been too direct? I try again, and again she pulls back. I start to speak but she puts a single finger to my lips. She turns to walk toward the bed and the robe falls to the floor revealing her exquisite, perfectly curved ass and long slender legs. Her soft hair sways gently against her shoulders as she glides forward.
She reaches the bed, turns, and gently lies back, nestling her head on a satin covered pillow, beckoning for me to join her. I walk slowly over to the bed, not wanting to hurry this moment of anticipation, of tingling excitement, longing to touch the captivating form before me. As I move toward the bed I loosen my belt. Reaching the bedside, I step out of my pants and let them fall to the floor. I leaned down to caress her breasts and she puts her hands on mine, moving them in a rhythm known only to her…up, down, around…then slowly down her stomach to her most private place.
I glance at her face once again, but now her eyes are closed, the long lashes tightly shut, her mind concentrating on the sensations of my hands on her body. I continue to caress her lightly and lean down to kiss her breasts, gently at first, then slowly circling each nipple with my tongue. She arches her back slightly and moans quietly, encouraging me to continue.
I move onto the bed with her, not yet taking her, but wanting to be closer to her, to feel her warmth, her heat. She opens her eyes and with one smooth motion, places both her hands behind my head and pulls my face into her bosom. I kiss and lick gently, but firmly. She moans again as I become more and more aroused.
“Take me now,” she urges softly, and I move above her. Our bodies flow together as if sculpted from one stone. As the passion slowly builds, our bodies move as one in a swelling tempo. Her hands moved up and down my back, pulling me in, urging me onward, getting warmer, wetter, and more vigorous.
I couldn’t stop now as we move more and more energetically, her back arching, pushing her body up to meet mine with each thrust, my body driving deeper and deeper, never losing contact, the tension mounting with each movement. Finally, she locks her legs around mine and pulls hard on my ass, trying to pull me into her completely. She arches her body, and, for a moment, seems suspended in mid-air. She lets out a little cry, shivers, and then follows with a low moan. As her gasp slowly relaxed, the pressure of her long fingernails on my back slowly subsides.
As I shift my weight preparing to move away, she grasps me firmly by the buttocks. “Don’t move!” she commands. We lay there, wet from sweat and the juices of lovemaking. I look into her face, her eyes still tightly shut, unwilling to relinquish the moment. A moment later she flutters them open and looks up at me. “You didn’t finish,” she says. I smile, knowing that I was close to climax, but holding back not wanting to spoil her moment. Then, with surprising strength, she pivots my shoulders, causing me to roll over onto my back. Now she is on top, and she takes up the rhythm, this time slower than where we had left off, but deep motion nonetheless.
Now it is my turn to moan, as she searches my face for the right rhythm, the right moves…down, up, side to side. I reach up and cup her firm breasts, squeezing gently. She gasps, and then arches her back, now moving her hips more vigorously. “Kiss me,” she says hoarsely. I curl up to place my lips on her breasts, and she gasps audibly. Now my hands are on her buttocks, suggesting a rhythm and our bodies once again move as one. With my lips on her nipples, firm under my tongue, her hips beckon me onward and upward, as if swirling in a dance.
Finally, she arches her back, and ecstasy fills her face. For one moment in the soft light she appears for the entire world to be an angel lost in complete surrender. I explode and convulse, beyond any power to stop. She moans, “oh, god help me, it is so good, so good”. I feel the liquid of life rush upward into her body as her rocking motion slowly subsides. She collapses onto my chest, her hair matted from sweat, her skin flushed and glistening. But her legs pin me into position so I cannot retract from her. Locked together we lie there, until our breathing slows, rising and falling together. Her arms and body are limp, but her legs are unyielding, not allowing me to move further away in any direction.
After a few moments of heavenly peace, she props up on one elbow brushing her hair aside and looks into my eyes, searching. “Never in my 15 years of marriage did I experience anything like that.” The half grin on her face reflects both the satisfaction of a grown woman pleased with herself and the amazement of an awe-struck teenager basking in the afterglow of her first time. Exhausted, I can hardly speak, but I gaze into those smiling, emerald eyes. “You can count on me to move your boxes anytime. She smiled and started to relax more as we lay there savoring our new experience.