It gives you...


Erotica by Joe Tortuga

Chapter 1: She Drives Me Crazy

(1st, cheat, cuckolder, MF, Rom, Summer of 89)

April 17, 2013

Her name wasn’t Mrs. Robinson, and her husband wasn’t away at war. But she was my neighbor, she was hot and what we did changed my life forever. I wouldn’t condone doing what she did today, but for me at fifteen — I was fine with it.

We were new to the neighborhood.  We’d moved from Charlotte, North Carolina to suburban Cleveland as soon as school was out. Dad had closed on the place earlier in the year, and sold our house to someone moving down south for the weather. They weren’t so lucky when Hugo ran through Charlotte, and left them without power or water for weeks.  We even got rain up in Cleveland.

But that was in September, after my most amazing summer, the Summer of 89.

The trip from Charlotte had been long. I rode with Dad in a huge panel van which pulled his Ford Escort. Mom and Amy followed us in the station wagon.  We’d stopped just after crossing into Ohio and spent the night. We woke up early and pulled out with first light.  It was almost lunch time when we pulled into our home in Euclid, Ohio.

As the truck pulled up into our driveway I saw her.  She was learning over gardening, and wearing the tightest pair of short shorts I think I’d ever seen in my fifteen years.  Her legs were long and tanned and her ass round and nearly exploding out of her shorts. I could see every detail and things were getting very uncomfortable and potentially embarrassing in my pants.  That’s when she turned around.

Somehow, either by artifice or good fortune, she turned so that her blouse hung open and I could see right down it. Her breasts hung down full and milk-white and pendulous.  Not that I knew any of those words then. I just saw ass and legs, and an eye full of titties, and I was hard and I’m sure my mouth was agape.  She saw me, smiled, and I felt my cheeks burn.  She waved at us, and I tore my eyes away.

Dad tapped me on the back of my head. “Close your mouth,” he said. “She’s good to look at but don’t stare.”

“Okay, Dad,” I said.  “Sorry.”

“It’s normal,”  he said. “Just be a gentleman.  And remember that I told you Ohio would be cool.”

I laughed, and we went outside.  The woman had gone up to the car my Mom and Amy were in, and was talking to them as they got out.  They walked our way and I tried to not stare, but her tits were just so nice.  I think she noticed my hard on too, which didn’t help much.  Mom came up and introduced us.  “Janet, this is my husband Sam, and our son Brian.  Boys, this is Mrs. Cooke.”

“Hi, ma’am,” I said.

“Hello, Janet,”  Dad said, holding out his hand.  “Good day for gardening?” he asked.

“Just doing some weeding,” Janet said. “Welcome to the neighborhood.  We wondered when you were moving in.”

“Brian,” Mom said. “You should offer Mrs. Cooke some help.  He’s started a yard business for the summer. I’m afraid our move lost him all his customers.”

Janet laughed. “Well, my husband does most of that. But perhaps you can come over and we can talk about your rates?”

Her eyes looked me up and down and lingered for a moment on my erection.  I blushed before answering her. “S-sure,” I said.

“For now, though,” Dad said. “We really need to get some things unpacked. Get the beds set up and the kitchenware out of the car.”

“Of course,” she said, waved at all of us. “Again, welcome to the neighborhood.”  She went back to her weeding and I tried to ignore her.

Moving is the worst, really.  It’s so much work and it all has to be done right then.  I still hate it, although I hire people to do the heavy lifting now.  We emptied out the car, and Mom and Amy took off to get us all some lunch.  While we waited on them, we got Dad’s car off the trailer and opened up the truck.

About then, they got back with lunch, and we took a short break as we ate.  Then Dad and I were back to unloading the truck while Mom and Amy unpacked the kitchen and worked inside. I might have begrudged Amy the hard job, but she was only twelve then, and I was happy to show off my muscles to Mrs. Cooke.  Testosterone really gets the manly jobs done.  I didn’t even notice when she stopped weeding, or that she’d even left.  Fifteen and testosterone is also the recipe for stupid.

It was about four when Dad and I had the truck unloaded. My arms were like spaghetti and my legs ached as we moved.  We still hadn’t gotten the beds put together, but they were stacked in our various rooms.  Dad wanted to get to that, but I was going to beg him to do it tomorrow.

I was thinking about how to approach him, as we closed up the truck. He was going to take it back, and mom was going to follow in her car. That’s when Mrs. Cooke pulled into the driveway and waved at us.  She went around to the back of her car, and opened up the trunk.  I watched as she leaned over and pulled a bag of groceries out.

“Go help her, Brian,” Dad said.

“I don’t think I can carry anything else,” I said.

“It’s just a few more things, and be neighborly,” he said.  I could tell I was getting nowhere.  “When you’re done, go help your sister order pizza, and we’ll eat when your Mom and I get back.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.  I walked over to Mrs. Cooke, and said, “Let me help you with that.”

“Thanks,” she said.

I grabbed up the rest of the groceries, and lifted them up.  She shut the trunk of her car, and let me to the side door of her house.  She opened it up. “We rarely lock our door,” she said. “It’s a good neighborhood.”  She stepped on inside, and motioned for me to go inside.

The door opened up into her kitchen, which was bright, and decorated in a homey way, with apples and country decorations.  I set the groceries down on the counter. “There you go, ma’am,” I said.

She looked out the window of her kitchen.  “How old is your sister?” she asked.

“She’s twelve,” I said.

“So she can be on her own for a bit?”

“Uh, sure,” I said.

“Well take a seat then, Brian   Let me get you a cold pop, and put the cold stuff away. Then we can talk about the yard work.”

“Okay,” I said. “You have Coke?” She pulled one out of the fridge and handed it to me.  I opened it up and drank it down fast.  I watched her as she moved around the kitchen.  She was still wearing the loose blouse and tight pants.  I tried to remember Dad’s warning about staring, but we were alone, and she wasn’t paying any attention to me.

Her breasts swung underneath the blouse, and I was pretty sure those shorts were painted on.  Of course, I was getting aroused again, but no one was saying anything, so I didn’t worry about it.  I just sat there and watched her and fantasized about her naked.  Which wasn’t very difficult, considering.

The soda was cool, and her house was cool, unlike ours, since her air conditioning had been on for longer.  It didn’t take her long to finish putting things away, and she grabbed another Coke from the fridge for each of us.  She pulled a chair out from the table and sat down close to me.

“Brian,” she said. “I appreciate the help.  I wanted to talk to you in private about the lawn work.”

“Sure,” I said. “Just being neighborly. I’ve got a sheet with my rates on it back home.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said. “I work from home, and, well, my husband expects me to take care of the house and lawn.  He works hard, and he works late most of the time — like today.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, that’s okay.  I’m sorry if Mom put you on the spot about that.”

“No, that’s not it,” she said. “Like I said, my husband works hard and late most of the time. So I think we could work out an arrangement.”

She was fiddling with the buttons on her blouse, and I was watching her.  My cock strained against my pants, and I just didn’t get what she was talking about.”I… I don’t understand,” I finally said. I’m not sure how long it took me to say it, as she’d undone the top button of her blouse. I mean the top one that was still buttoned.  It was the third or fourth one down, and her cleavage showed through very well.

I still remember that today, like it was burned into my mind.

“Oh, to be so young,” she said.  She undid another button.  “I think I better show you what I mean. You helped me out today, right?”  Another button, and her blouse fell open revealing a lacy bra which lifted up her tits and showed them to me.

I blushed and said nothing. My mouth was dry and my mind was going a hundred miles per hour. She was going to show me her tits for bringing in her groceries?  Could she go shopping every day?  She reached over and touched my cock through my pants. I groaned.

“Take it out,” she said. “I want to see it.”  I fumbled at it, unbuttoning my jeans, and sliding my zipper down. I’d done it every day for most of my life, but this time it felt like my zipper hung and it took forever.  My cock had slipped through my boxers and sprung up as I zipped it down.  “Oh, Brian. It’s beautiful.”

“So, so are you.” I said, and gulped.  I was still staring at her tits.

“You like them?” she said rocking her shoulders so they bounced a bit.


“Good.” She put her hand on my cock and I nearly fainted.  “Just a handjob today,” she said “Because your cock is lovely but all you did was ‘be neighborly.‘”  She rubbed my cock up and down, and ran her hand over the tip. Then she started going up and down pretty fast.  My precum came out and she ran her hand over it to lube it up, and then when she wrapped her fist around my cock and rubbed it felt awesome.

Her hand moved so fast her tits bounced up and down together. I watched them mesmerized as she jerked me off.  It felt like forever, but it was probably only a couple of minutes, if that, before I spurted. It felt wonderful. No one had ever done that for me before, and that’s when I learned how different it was to be touched versus touching yourself.  I wanted to be touched a lot.

My first spurt of cum landed on her tits.  The rest oozed around her hand as she squeezed it out of me.  I gasped and felt the last of my strength ooze with it.  She licked off her hands.  “Oh, that’s so good,” she said. “I love it.” She slid her hand to her tits, and swiped up the bit that was there, and ate it too.

“I liked that a lot,” I said. My brain wasn’t working, and I was fifteen.

“You were supposed to,” she said. “So here’s the deal. That’s what you got for groceries.  Think about what you’ll get for doing more lawn work. Plus I know more people in the neighborhood who I can recommend. Don’t get your hopes up, they’ll pay cash. Deal?”

I laughed. “Deal,” I said.  I tucked my cock back in my shorts, and tried to zip my pants while I sat, rather unsuccessfully.  I was starting to get hard again as I thought about what she said.

“Cool,” she said. “I’ll be in touch.”

I got home before Mom and Dad did, at least, which just confirmed that it hadn’t taken as long as I’d thought.  Still, I remember that day well, as it’s when things changed for me, forever. I had no idea what that summer was going to be like, but it was just beginning.

I had no idea what she was going to teach me, or what I’d learn that she didn’t mean to teach me.  The highs were high, and the lows were pretty low.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I should tell you about my first time with her first.  Oh, if I could turn back time and do that over.

Joe Tortuga

Written by Joe Tortuga a bisexual dominant erotica writer and programmer (he/him). Follow me on Twitter