This is one of a series of stories relating the exploits of John Moxton.
All persons and events described here relate to real-life but with the names and locations altered to prevent too much embarrassment to the guilty.
A long summer
John had just finished his final year in school and following his exams was at a bit of a loose end before going on to university to study religion and philosophy. He faced several weeks with plenty of time on his hands before starting. None of his close friends lived in the village and the nearest ones were all away for the summer on family holidays in the south of somewhere or other.
Only one of his previous girlfriends, Annette, was still in the area. Unfortunately, she had family visiting for a few weeks and could not get away easily.
John had rather hoped that some of his stepsister Sylvine's cute little friends would be available over the summer to entertain him, but unfortunately, they too were all away with their families.
Sylvine had gone to stay with an aunt near Bristol. John had the option to go with her but had never really got on too well with his father's sister. Chalk and cheese really. They just rubbed each other up the wrong way. She had two children, a son and daughter, both slightly older than John. She was divorced and currently having her arse screwed off regularly by one of the local farmers. Well, more than one farmer according to the daily reports from Sylvine.
John's cousin, Mary, was the younger of the two and actually quite fuckable. John would have had fun playing with her lovely firm tits and slipping his cock into her, apart from one thing. She had a whining laugh like a horse that just hit a raw nerve. John had visions of her starting that horrible sound as she was cuming. The thought of that braying in his ear made John shudder.
John and Sylvine's usual evening activities would also have been somewhat curtailed so there was really very little point in going anyway.
He would have to content himself with self-help for a few days until something else turned up.
After a few days spent kicking his heels around the house his father suggested that it might be an idea to go round the village and see if anyone needed anything doing. John was not particularly skilled at anything much but had done quite a bit around the house garden and certainly knew one end of a rake from the other. More to keep the peace he got on his bicycle and did the rounds of the larger houses in and around the village.
The village was located in the northern part of the Cotswolds and was affluent, to put it mildly. The old part of the village was mainly cute little chocolate box cottages and all the trimmings. The outer parts however were filled with large Victorian and Edwardian houses left over from the age of empire. Some were still occupied by persons from the older era who did not realise that the empire had faded over the misty horizon of time....... Ahem, Sorry about that.
Most of the properties now housed professionals who had recently moved there to escape the city. It was a relatively easy, if a little lengthy, commute with a regular direct train service.
Christine Wallace
Following several rejections or no responses John ended up at the Wallace residence. Christine and Michael Wallace were the proud owners of a large mock-Tudor house set in roughly 5 acres of garden, a sizable chunk of which was reasonably well manicured lawn. The majority of the grounds was orchard and mixed woodland which all combined to make the place very secluded.
Christine answered the door. She was in her early thirties with dark blonde shoulder length hair that was just beginning to show the odd flecks of grey. Her dark brown eyes were emphasised by thick, but not actually bushy, eyebrows. She wore no makeup. Her figure was not exactly slim but also not overweight. Comfortable was John's first thoughts. Her face was full and featured a very beguiling smile that made everyone feel totally at ease. All in all, a rather attractive woman to John's eyes and he felt a distinct stirring in his jeans.
He had previously met the Wallaces socially on a couple of occasions but was not a close friend. Michael Wallace was some kind of financial executive in The City and commuted from the local station on a daily basis. He usually caught the first train at around 6:30 and returned on one which got in around 8:45 in the evening. A long tiring day, even if the return train was on time. To the best of John's knowledge, they had no children and there were no obvious signs of toys or other children's items. John later determined that they did actually want children and had been trying but had no luck so far. Christine thought that the long hours and stress from Michael's job were major contributing factors.
After exchanging the usual pleasantries over a cold drink on the veranda, it was agreed that Christine would be more than happy for him to do some of the garden maintenance, particularly the lawn and beds. She did look after the garden, but the lawn was more a chore than anything. She would be happy to get rid of most of it, but Michael was very attached to it for some reason. They did have a rather nice new sit on lawn mower that would keep John happy. She had one or two other jobs that he could also do with the total being not a great deal more than a few hours each day during the week. This arrangement would suit John quite nicely as he had no desire to be working a full day. He also rather liked the idea of having some rather nice mature eye candy to cheer him up.
They agreed he would start the following morning.
