Chapter 2: Really sexy.
"Perhaps," Miss Calvin began, reaching down to unzip Michael's fly, "you want something a little more experienced than little Lucy." She reached into his pants and withdrew his rapidly swelling cock. "Perhaps, you just didn't realise that something better might be living next door." She bent, from the hips, to wrap the head of his cock in her lips. He let out a groan. She slid his cock, slowly, achingly, into her mouth and he knew that he would come at any instant, but he did not. She slid her way back up his shaft and straightened up. "What do you think, Michael?"
He couldn't answer. All he could do was nod. She smiled and slid her knees onto the chair on either side of his hips. Her hands reached down to slide him forward on the chair a few inches. He gasped as she slid his cock into her pussy with no more warning than that.
"Yes!" she hissed as she drove down onto his shaft, lifting immediately only to slide back down. She kept up the same constant rhythm for several minutes (hours it seemed to Michael, lost in a world of pleasures untold), until he felt her vaginal muscles tighten around him and knew that she was going to cum. His own orgasm began with that realisation and suddenly, as her muscles began milking him for all they could get, he came into her for all he was worth.
He woke up, sweating and sticky, his body still in the throws of the orgasm that had claimed him in the dream. "Jesus Christ!" he stammered when he had the breath control to speak at all.
As he cleaned himself up and changed the sheets on his bed he had one overriding concern. How was he going to look Miss Calvin in the face having dreamed of fucking her brains out in a cinema?
Miss Calvin was not going to make things easy for him. She greeted him the next morning dressed in a black, mesh cover-up over a bikini that Michael thought looked quite small. She had erected a lounger on the (now clear) patio, and it seemed obvious that sun bathing was the order of the day. She thanked him for coming again and vanished into the house.
Michael heaved a sigh of relief, only to have Miss Calvin emerge a minute later with a tray of lemonade, and without the cover-up. The bikini was as small as he had imagined and his cock responded to it in the time-honoured fashion. The bra consisted of two small triangles that more or less covered her nipples, connected together with string. The bottoms covered (barely) the area Michael remembered as having pubic hair over it with thin cord stretching from the top corners of the lycra triangle high over her hips. As she turned to set the tray down, he could see that the cords joined with a third cord that disappeared between her buttocks. From the back, she could have been naked.
Michael thanked her for the lemonade and attacked the garden with considerable ferocity in the forlorn hope that he could forget about the naked woman lying in the sun a few yards away.
"Michael." It was Miss Calvin calling from the back door of the house. He looked up and saw her standing there, the cover-up back in place. "It's after midday. I told your mother I'd get your lunch today, come on in when you're ready."
Michael swallowed hard and tried to span out picking up a few loose twigs for as long as he could; which turned out to be about a minute. Then he trudged up the garden and in through the back door.
There was a sink to his left and he washed his hands and face there before moving on into the house in search of Miss Calvin. He found her seated at a table in what he took to be the dining room. In front of her was a large plate of sandwiches and two large glasses of lemonade. He sank gratefully into another chair and, as she waved for him to tuck in, reached for a sandwich. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he had disposed of half the plate while Miss Calvin was just starting her second.
She laughed and made a comment about growing boys. "You eat up. All I've done is lie on a lounger all morning." She pushed the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth, chewed for a second, and swallowed. "Just wait there, I want your opinion on something," and with that she stood up and went out through the door leading into the rest of the house.
A few minutes later her voice made him turn. "What do you think of this?" This was a black gown that clung to her body from the high-collar neck to her ankles. She was wearing four-inch stiletto-heeled sandals which added to her already considerable height. The dress was largely opaque lycra, but the midriff and the chest panel above her breasts was made of black stretch mesh such that the top and bottom of her breasts, and her stomach down to about three inches below her belly button was visible. She raised her arms straight above her head and turned to reveal that the back was mesh down far enough to expose the top of her buttocks. If that had not given the game away, the dress was too tight to wear anything under it; she was naked under the gown.
"Well?" she asked. He looked blankly at her. "I'm going out tonight. To a special party. Do you think I look good in this?"
Michael swallowed and tried to regain some composure. If the bulge in his jeans did not tell her what she wanted to know, he did not know what would. Mind you... "You look great," he said, "really sexy."
"But?"
"Does there have to be a 'but'?"
She arched an eyebrow. "I can hear the 'but'," she replied, twitching her hips in a way that gave an alternative meaning to the word.