It’s the weekend and time to tackle the “honey do” list. You’ve got chores to do and things to fix. You walk out into the garage and head for the tool bench. You’re surprised to suddenly see your hot divorced neighbor coming into your garage. She asks if you’d be able to help her out and repair a leaky faucet. Your cock twitches in your jeans as you tell her sure, you’d be happy to help. You grab your toolbox and follow her to her house. Sure enough, it’s an easy fix and you’re done in a jiffy. She offers to pay you and you refuse, saying, “neighbors help neighbors.” She thanks you profusely and you head back home.
Your spouse is just leaving as you get back, saying she’s going grocery shopping. You enter the garage and head to the tool bench. You hear a soft cough behind you and whirl around. The hot divorced neighbor is there again, giving you a little wave and you notice she’s changed her clothes. Now, it’s micro-shorts that must leave some asscheek exposed, and a crop top that barely covers her big boobs. Her exposed skin is taut and looks silky smooth, and you can smell her pleasant floral perfume as well. She says she really wants to repay you, and if you won’t take cash, would you accept a blowjob? Your cock instantly hardens and stretches like a retractable garden hose filling with water. She walks toward you, and you retreat to get beside the tool bench and out of direct public view.
She moves right up to you, reaches down to unbuckle your belt, unsnap and unzip your jeans and smiles. Your jeans hit the cement floor, and your cock almost hits her face as she kneels in front of you. Her lips are soft, her mouth is eager, and her tongue is twisting and teasing as she gobbles your Gigantor. You touch her soft hair just to keep your balance as you start to thrust just a bit. The warmth, the suction, the illicit nature of the whole situation have you harder than graphene. Suddenly she stops, removing your meat from her mouth, and says, “I really want you to put this…” Oh damn, you just woke up. What a hot dream. And where was she wanting you to stick your sausage next? Why don’t you call me and we’ll figure it out together.
Linda
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