Chapter Two
The following day, Wednesday, was my normal pickup and delivery day so I was on the road, all over the county. I delivered a dozen mowers, blowers, lawn and garden tractors, chain saws, and the like, and picked up a dozen more. I was in and out of the shop all morning and famished by lunch.
Okay, I was also excited as I pulled into her driveway.
The door opened as I walked up and when I went into the kitchen she was standing behind the door, out of sight.
I shut the door behind me and turned to look.
And grinned.
She was everything I had imagined.
As with yesterday, she was scrubbed clean, not a hint of makeup. Her shoulders were narrow and she had very distinct tan lines showing where she spent a lot of time outdoors.
It was her breasts, though, that caught the eye.
They were large, I later learned her bras were 34E and had sagged dramatically. She was one of those women whose glands hadn't collapsed with age and her breasts looked like a pair of small grapefruits contained in pale, blue-veined skin, bags. Her areolas were small, no bigger than a quarter, and very pale. There was no change in the color between the surrounding skin and the areola. Her nipples were small too, and very long. They were long enough that they drooped under their own weight, an image I found amazingly exotic and erotic.
She had a bit of a potbelly with a tiny little innie navel.
I was surprised to see that she was shaved, albeit poorly.
I grinned and touched her mons where a light fringe of hair had been missed.
"Did you do this for me?" I asked.
She blushed.
"Don't you like it?" she asked.
I grinned again, the full-on Grin.
"I did not say that," I said, "I'm just surprised."
"Now," I said, leaning forward to kiss her gently, "feed me."
This time she had it ready so I didn't get to watch her making it.
She was still blushing as she delivered my ham and cheese sandwich, potato chips, that dill pickle spear, and sweet iced tea.
We smiled at each other a lot as I ate my lunch. You could almost feel the tension in the air.
Finished, I stood and took her hand and not saying anything, led her to the bedroom.
As I undressed I made a bit of a striptease of it, taking my time, flaunting what was still a pretty good body for 42.
I turned my back on her to peel down and then step out of my shorts.
When I turned back she had laid on the bed, on her back, her legs spread and her hands at her sides.
I crawled in next to her and touched her nipple which instantly came hard and pointed straight up.
"Madonna," I said, "I apologize."
"For what?" she asked.
"For the men in your life who convinced you that this," and I made a gesture from her forehead down, "is what making love is about."
She met my eyes.
"What do you mean?" she said in a very small voice.
I reached over and pulled her up to face me.
I kissed her.
My hands started exploring her.
When I gently rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger her breath caught.
When I pinched a little harder she gasped and her eyes went wide.
I was wondering if she had some K-Y Jelly or even vaseline as my hand trailed down her belly.
I was surprised when I touched between her legs and found her wet and slick.
I moved my hand back up, brushing the hair back from her face.
"Ever ride a horse?" I asked.
