Melissa Mears stood at her sink, looking out her kitchen window and watching the boy mowing her back yard. He had already finished the front and would soon be coming in to be paid. She admired his muscular thighs and wondered how it would feel to have them moving between her long legs. It had been more than a month since she had enjoyed a man, a fellow from work who was abrupt and smelled bad, a mistake.

Above her in the back bedroom, her fifteen-year-old daughter was doing much the same thing, looking out the window and staring at the sweating boy and thinking how she might get him into her bed and body. She licked her lips as she studied his glistening chest and muscular stomach, his rounded shoulder and handsome face. She imaged what lay beneath his shorts and shivered. She was hot and needed a man even though she was, despite her recent efforts, still a virgin.

Billy put the mower away, glanced at the job he had just finished, smiled and went up the back steps and knocked on the door. Mrs. Mears, also smiling, invited him into the kitchen and drew him a big glass of water. “Have to get my checkbook,” she said, “be right back.”

Bill sat and rested, feeling healthy and satisfied with having done another good job, mentally totaling up his college fund, both the taxable part from mowing lawns and doing odd jobs and the tax-free presents he had been getting for having sex with several of the local grass widows and neglected wives.

That side line was now in its third year after one of his babysitting customers came home early and caught him with his big cock in his hand at her computer.

A girl hurried into the room and sat facing him, smiling. “Hi,” she said, “I’m Jennifer. I’ll be going to your school in the fall.”

“Bill Prentice,” he said taking her hand briefly and admiring her face and form, both lovely, desirable. He briefly wished he didn’t look at every female as a fuck buddy. “What year?”

“Junior. I was in a school in Vermont but, well, Daddy’s company got eaten up or something and it was real expensive. That’s why they moved here, to this smaller house.”

The woman returned and managed to hide her unhappiness.

“Weren’t you going to the library?” she asked her daughter.

“Maybe Billy could show me where it is,” the girl said, standing and letting her breasts jiggle nicely under the thin shirt she had slept in. It was all she had on and it barely reached her sleek thighs.

“Go get dressed then,” the woman said as she sat and opened the checkbook.

As soon as she was out of the room, the woman put her hand on Billy’s arm, smiled at him and said, “Mrs. Phillips told me that you are really well hung. How about a quickie? I really need it.”