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Older woman makes play for younger man.
On the table next to her was a tall glass with a half consumed icy beverage, a pair of binoculars, a clamshell ashtray, gold Zippo lighter, and the ever present pack of Newports.
She swung her long legs around and rose to meet me.
Janet LaPage was tall, athletic, and nearly 50. She kept her dirty blonde hair in a boyish cut. She was wearing a long unbuttoned blouse that draped down to her hips revealing a coral pink two piece bathing suit that matched her earrings. To me she had always seemed the picture of sophistication.
Languidly, the tall, lean woman came almost uncomfortably close and lightly placed her hand on my arm. I couldn't help but look down at her cleavage and the shape of her breasts supported by the revealing swimsuit.
She laughed coyly, and I brought my gaze up to her bright hazel eyes.
"Before you get into the heavy work, I'd like you to do me a favor," she said.
"Would you rub some suntan lotion on my back?"
"Um, uh, yeah, ok."
She headed back to the lounge chair slipping out of the white blouse as she walked. I noticed the curve of her waist. The tight swimsuit pulled against her ass as she bent over to lower the back of the chair to the flat position.
Mrs. LaPage lay face down and reached around to unhook her top.
"The lotion's right here," she said matter of factly.
Hesitantly, I squeezed out a dollop onto my fingers and placed it in the middle of her back.
"You have to spread it around, you know," she said with a chuckle.
I began to rub in the lotion with a circular motion, making sure to stay well within her shoulder blades.
"Be sure to get my neck and shoulders," she said.
I moved up to her neck. Using both hands now I rubbed her neck and slid down to her shoulders. She raised her arms and my hands followed down her sides, dangerously close to her boobs.
I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen, but Mrs. LaPage gave no indication that I was out of line.
I moved down to her waist and covered the small of her back.
"Mmm," she said. "You've got a nice touch, Billy. Now do my legs."
I started down at her slender ankle and felt my way up her solid calf, past the back of her knee and on to her thigh.
I had never before put my hands on a woman. This was a woman I had known for much of my life who was older than my mother, yet here I was, experiencing every inch of her. My shyness was receding as my desire grew.
"Make sure you go all the way up," she directed.
"Uh, up?" I stammered.
"Don't leave anything uncovered. All the way up to the bottom of my suit."
Cautiously, I worked my way up the back of her leg to the bottom of her swimsuit. She moved her leg, presenting the inside of her thigh.
"Get the inside too," she said in a quieter tone.
I placed my hand on the inside of her thigh and moved up toward the top of her leg.
"That's the way," she said softly. "Now do the other leg. And use both hands."
I rubbed lotion on my hands and wrapped them around her ankle working my way up her leg until I held her thigh in both hands. Cautiously, I moved up to the edge of her swimsuit and held her there with my finger on the seam.
She wiggled slightly and brought her legs together squeezing my hand between her thighs. She took a deep breath and sighed.
"You're good at this. You've got a really nice touch."
"Um, than you, Mrs. LaPage," I mumbled.
"Call me Janet, OK. We're both adults now, aren't we?" she chuckled. Now I really do have some work for you to do."
I spent the next couple hours raking, trimming, and otherwise working off my heightened state of energy in the unseasonably warm afternoon. I was assembling a pile of leaves and sticks by the back fence when Mrs. LaPage called me back to the deck.
"Billy, why don't you take a break? It's such a hot day. Come over here in the shade."
I descended across the lawn and sat down in one of the deck chairs.
"Do you want a beer? ... Or would you rather have a highball," she said with a wink.
The drinking age in our state was 21 and I was only 18, but the notion of sharing a beer with this worl