Chapter 2: Mrs. Harris

The following week, Freddy found himself standing on the doorstep of Mrs. Jean Harris, another name on his paper route. He remembered Mrs. Harris as a quiet, unassuming woman, always dressed in sensible blouses and long skirts. But today, she greeted him with a sight that nearly made his jaw drop.

She stood in the doorway, her ample figure barely contained by a skimpy halter top and a pair of bikini bottoms. Her breasts, full and ripe, practically spilled out of the top, their nipples straining against the thin fabric. Her hips, wide and inviting, swayed gently as she moved, her long legs tanned and toned.

Freddy, his cock already stirring at the memory of his encounter with Marge, felt a surge of lust course through him. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Mrs. Harris, the quiet, conservative housewife, was transformed into a veritable sex goddess.

‘Come in, Freddy,’ she purred, her voice husky with invitation. ‘Don’t just stand there gawking.’

Freddy, his face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement, stepped inside. He followed her into the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of her body, his mind reeling with forbidden thoughts.

Mrs. Harris, sensing his gaze, smiled knowingly. ‘Like what you see, Freddy?’ she asked, her voice a playful tease.

Freddy, unable to contain himself any longer, blurted out, ‘You look amazing, Mrs. Harris.’

She laughed, a throaty sound that sent shivers down his spine. ‘Call me Jean,’ she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘And you can call me anything you like, if you’re a good boy.’

Freddy’s heart pounded in his chest. He knew what she was implying, knew that she was offering him more than just a glimpse of her nakedness. He felt a surge of boldness, a primal urge to take what she was offering.

He reached for her, his hands finding the soft curve of her hips, pulling her closer. Jean moaned, her body yielding to his touch, {her desire evident.}She fumbled with the tie of her halter top, letting it fall to the floor, revealing her full, heavy breasts, their nipples dark and inviting.

Freddy’s breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t believe his luck. Two weeks in a row, two beautiful women, offering him their bodies, their pleasures. {He felt a surge of excitement, a thrill of conquest.}

He lowered his head, his lips finding her nipple, his tongue tracing its outline. Jean gasped, her body arching against his touch, her fingers tangling in his hair. She pulled him closer, her mouth finding his, their tongues entwining in a dance of forbidden desire.

The room spun, the world outside fading into a distant blur. All that mattered was the feel of her body against his, the taste of her lips, the scent of her arousal. He was lost in a sea of sensation, drowning in the forbidden depths of her desire.

Jean, her body on fire, pulled him towards the couch, her hands fumbling with his belt. She unzipped his pants, freeing his cock, its head glistening with precum. She stroked it gently, her touch sending shivers of pleasure through him.

Freddy, his cock throbbing with anticipation, watched as she lowered her head, her lips parting to engulf him. He groaned, his hands finding her hair, guiding her movements. She sucked him deep, her tongue swirling around his cockhead, her mouth warm and wet.