1

He knew exactly when his obsession started. It was the week after the end of his final school term. He had months to wait until he started at university and so he looked for, and found, a temporary job as a gardener’s assistant.

His employer was a middle-aged man called Derek who ran a small gardening business. Derek had contracts with several businesses and a number of wealthy private clients, one of whom was the widow, Emily Brown. However, the first encounter with Mrs. Brown came not at her garden but in the car park of the local supermarket. And it was that encounter that set the whole thing in motion.

On that morning, Derek had driven him to the supermarket and pointed out a series of narrow flower beds that divided the car park at regular intervals. He called them flower beds, but in reality they were narrow beds of scraggy shrubs, and litter of various sorts. And his job was not so much gardening as pulling out the old crisp packets, sweet wrappers, plastic bottles and other rubbish which had accumulated over the past few months. He didn’t mind about this, he was being paid for it. He plugged in his ear pods, got down on his hands and knees, and started methodically going the through the beds.

He was working on his second bed when a blue BMW swept into the parking bay on the other side of the bed. It was only a few feet wide, so when the door was thrown open, it nearly took his head off. It didn’t make contact, but it did grab his attention. He looked up to see a very attractive middle-aged woman sitting there. She was busy looking for something in her handbag, and obviously hadn’t noticed him. She slid her right leg out of the car as if to get out, but then turned back to reach something on the back seat.

His heart leapt, because as she did so she spread her legs wide open. She was wearing a short, tight suede skirt and it slid high up her thighs, only a few feet in front of him. It was impossible not to stare. She had long, perfect legs and her black stockings showed them off to perfection. More importantly, the darker band of her stocking tops highlighted the creamy paleness of her inner thighs, and between those, the crotch of her pure white panties ... He was transfixed, unable to look away as her rummaging in the back of the car continued and her legs kicked wider to try and keep her balance. Her panties were sheer ... pure white, and there was a dark crease where the fabric pressed into her vagina. His mouth went dry and his hands shook. His heart did a leap and he felt an urge to rub hard on the front of his jeans where his cock was stirring. Then she turned and backed out of the car, presenting him a tightly shaped arse - the cheeks still firm and high. He guessed that, whoever she was, she obviously kept herself fit.

And that, he thought was all he was going to know about her. But it was enough. The upskirt vision of her white panties with the dark crease clung in his mind. And that night, in bed he closed his eyes, holding tightly onto that image while he gripped his penis and masturbated frantically. And even after he had cum, exploding into a handful of tissues, the vision refused to leave him. And as the days passed, the image stayed clear and bright in his mind, fueling night after night of vigorous sexual fantasy.

It might have gradually diminished as an obsession, but for the fact that some strange turn of fate seemed to throw the same woman into his path. Another of Derek’s contracts was with the local tennis club. And it was there one afternoon that he saw her again, this time in an obligatory short white skirt and polo shirt. Trimming the edge of the lawn that surrounded of the court she was playing on, he kept a discrete but watchful eye on her as he played, admiring the litheness of her movements, the long, strong legs and the frequent flash of white panties. Later, he saw her sitting at a table with several other women and when Derek came to join him, he casually asked who the good tennis player might be.

When Derek realized who he was referring to, he gave a little knowing chuckle.

‘That’s Emily Brown, that is. She’s one of me regular clients. Known her for years. Widow. Her hubby passed away about a year ago, leaving her a very wealthy widow.’ ... He paused, gazing fondly in her direction. ‘Nice piece that. Keeps herself very trim too, I’d say.’ Derek was silent for a while, wielding a hoe around a well-planted flower bed. Then he looked up again. ‘Actually, I could do some help with her garden next week if you’re interest?’

And that was how he got to learn where Mrs ... Emily Brown lived.

2

A week later, he and Derek drove into one of the more exclusive parts of town, where the houses were large and detached, standing in gardens that were almost parks themselves. Emily Brown’s house sat back behind a long lawn patched with low shrubberies and flanked on both sides by mature trees. The house was whitewashed and smart-looking. It proclaimed a certain degree of wealth and good taste.

Derek swung the van to one side of the drive and led the way to a large double-doored wooden shed that sat to one side of the house itself. The sit-on mower was extracted, along with other tools, and the two men began work. There was no sign of Mrs. Brown.

After a few hours Derek dug a key from an old paint pot on a shelf and suggested that he go into the kitchen to make them mugs of tea. When he asked if Mrs. Brown would mind, Derek shook his head. ‘No, she’s always let me do it. Anyway, she’s not in today, so she won’t see you.’

So he went in to the house and found mugs, and tea bags in a pot marked ‘Gardener’s tea’. While he was waiting for the kettle to boil, he quickly looked round the ground floor. There was a large lounge with leather sofa and chairs and an enviously sized television screen. A separate dining room laid out with table and eight chairs. A downstairs bathroom and utility room with all the usual machines. He didn’t want to raise suspicion, so he quickly made the tea and re-locked the back door before returning to where Derek was waiting ... But, as he sat drinking his tea, he realized that his brief exploration of Mrs. Brown’s house had not only excited him, it had brought him, somehow closer to her. That night he dreamt of exploring the house again, but the opportunity came sooner than he thought possible. Because when, a week later, Derek asked him for help with her garden again, he jumped at the chance.

This time Mrs. Brown was still there when they arrived, though she was about to leave. As Derek unlocked the garden shed, she suddenly appeared and came to speak. Standing behind her he was able to give her a close appraisal. The suede skirt was still present, but now she was wearing a pale cream blouse that hugged her breasts, revealing the pattern of a lacy bra - He gazed longingly at her, giving close attention to the firm uplift of her breasts and the way her arse curved tightly to her upper thighs. Once again his heart seemed to speed up in her presence, and his mouth dried.

Later, when Derek asked him to once again make the tea, he hurried indoors and, after only a brief hesitation, made his way up the thickly carpeted stairs to the first floor. There were four bedrooms but it didn’t take him long to find hers. Not only was it the largest, it had an ensuite bathroom. He looked round the bedroom quickly, his heart beating loudly as he slid open a few drawers. Her underwear drawer was easy to find. Panties and bras were tumbled together in an untidy jumble which made him smile. Immaculate though she was, she wasn’t infallible. He carefully picked out a pair of her panties, and then a thought struck him. He shut the drawer and returned to the bathroom. In one corner stood a tall laundry basket. He lifted the lid and rummaged inside until he found what he was looking for. Amongst the laundry waiting to be washed were several pairs of panties. He picked out a white pair and, holding it over his face, he inhaled a head-spinning fragrance of musk and scent. Thrilled, he tucked the panties into a pocket, and returned to the kitchen.

That night he lay in bed with his face buried in the crotch of the panties. Opening his mouth he sucked the fabric onto his tongue until he tasted the saltiness of her vaginal juices. Then he wrapped the panties around his erect penis and, concentrating on the vision of her widespread legs, he began to masturbate until he was so hard and excited, he came multiple times, filling her panties with his cum.

3

When Derek announced that they didn’t need to return to Mrs. Brown’s garden again for a while, he felt the disappointment bitterly. His sense of loss was relieved slightly by the fact that she appeared regularly at the tennis club, and he was able to inveigle Derek to taking him along there each time. - This proved very lucky, because about two weeks later he happened to be standing near when Mrs. Brown came out of the club house with some of her female friends. They were very cheery and it quickly became apparent that she was going to meet them that very evening, for a meal and a few drinks.

‘Expect a late one tonight!’ one of them called as she drove off. And Mrs. Brown responded ‘I’m looking forward to it. I can’t remember when I last had a night out.’

So she was going to be out, and not back till late. A plan formed in his mind and he grew more excited as he set about putting it into effect.

It was eleven o’clock when he slipped into the shadows in Mrs. Brown’s garden. He waited in the darkness for fifteen minutes, watching the lights of the adjacent houses and the entrance to the driveway, to see if anyone had seen him and was coming to investigate. But there was no movement. The garden was quiet, apart from the rustling of a breeze in the tops of the trees. Approaching the house, he had also noted a light on in the main bedroom upstairs. A pink glow behind the curtains. His heart almost stopped when he saw it. Perhaps she hadn’t gone out after all. Perhaps she had had a change of heart. He waited for an age, staring up at the window, but there was no sign of moving shadow, no flickering of the light. Eventually, he decided that the house was indeed empty and, forcing open the door of the garden shed, he quickly found the key to the back door and made his way into the house.

Still cautious, he tiptoed up the stairs and approached the half-open door to the bedroom. The room was infused with a soft pink light, and pushing the door slowly wider, he saw that it came from the small lamp on the bedside cabinet. More confident now, he slowly explored the other bedrooms and then lay down on one of the spare beds to wait.

An hour passed when he saw the lights of a car flash across the front of the house and the sound of an engine approach. He heard it stop in front of the house and go silent. He was waiting for the sound of the car door opening, but nothing happened. It was then, with a flash of near panic that he remembered the doors to the garden shed. He had left them wide open. If she saw that she might take alarm, might take off again ... He lay on his back in the darkness, his heart thudding, clenching his fists and praying ... Then, to his relief, he heard the car door open and close. Keys rattled in the lock downstairs and the front door opened and quickly closed. Again there was silence downstairs, no sound of movement for almost a minute. Then he heard the click of heels making their way slowly round the ground floor. Fortunately, he had remembered to lock the back door, and the keys were in his pocket.

Then he heard footsteps on the stairs. Again his heart missed a beat. If she had checked the ground floor, might she also check the upstairs bedrooms. He carefully slid from the bed and positioned himself behind the bedroom door, but Mrs. Brown went straight to her bedroom. He tiptoed out onto the landing, praying that there were no loose floor boards to betray him.

Looking through the crack in her bedroom door, he saw her peel off a short leather jacket and hang it carefully on the back of a chair. She crossed to the dressing table and removed her earrings and the pearl necklace that she had been wearing. Then she moved out of sight, but he heard her go into the bathroom and run a tap.

Now, almost beside himself with excitement, he stepped slowly into the middle of the room. There was the sound of teeth being carefully brushed. The chink of a toothbrush being dropped into a glass. He could hear her humming quietly for a minute or two, and then she opened the door and tool several steps into the bedroom. And that was when she saw him.

The shock on her face turned to fear and then anger.

‘What are you doing in here?’ She demanded loudly. ‘How did you get in? - What do you want?’

She was wearing a tight, but short, black skirt and a pale coloured shirt with the collar turned up. In the pink glow from the lamp it was easy to see the shape of a black bra under the shirt and a pattern of lace where her breasts pressed against the tightness of the silk. Something about the high heels tightened her thighs and calves, accentuating the length of her legs ... He thought she looked really hot. Sure, the lines in the corners of her eyes revealed her age, but for 45, she was a stunner.

‘What do you want?’ she demanded again, her voice sounding waspish but shaky.

He grinned.

She glanced over her shoulder quickly and he saw her mobile phone on the bedside table. She took several steps towards it, but he sidestepped quickly to block her way ... Her eyes were a dark blue in the low light. Still smiling he said quietly. ‘You don’t recognize me do you Mrs ... Brown?’

She frowned and looked uncertain. ‘I don’t know how you got in here but I think you should leave immediately’, she said assertively. ‘I’m going to call the police.’

He laughed and reaching into the pocket of his jeans he pulled out the little bunch of keys and held them up for her to see. ‘I have a key Mrs., Brown. That’s how I got in.’

For a moment she looked confused. And then she said quickly, ‘You were here last week. Helping the Gardener.’

He gave a slow grin. ‘I’m surprised you noticed me. You never have before.’

‘What do you mean?’ She asked, frowning. - ‘Before’

He grinned again. ‘Oh, I’ve seen you around Mrs. Brown ... At the tennis club, ... in Waitrose. Just around and about. You know.’

He slowly looked her up and down again, feeling his body flushing with excitement. ‘You know,’ he said slowly, ‘you’re a very attractive woman Mrs. Brown’

Anger flashed across her face. ‘I think you’d better leave,’ She snapped sharply.

He shook his head slowly, gazing into the blueness of her eyes. ‘No I don’t think so ... Not yet.’

Suddenly she looked less confident, even afraid. ‘What do you want!? – She asked shakily, then, ‘You shouldn’t be in here.’

‘Well...,’ he said slowly, rubbing his hands on his jeans.

‘I can give you money, if that’s what you want,’ she said desperately

He smiled and then slowly shook his head.

‘Right, I’m phoning the police,’ she said loudly.

Then she made a sudden lunge towards the bedside table. One of her heels snagged in the rug at the end of the bed and she fell awkwardly landing on her side on the bed. Instantly she rolled onto her back and tried to get to her feet, but he was too quick. He threw himself forward pinning her down with his left forearm across he throat. Her right arm was pinned underneath his body, but she balled her free hand into a fist and hit him around the face. He grabbed the wrist and forced her hand back down into the bed bedside her face.

‘No!’ She shouted angrily. ‘Get off of me!’

He leant forward and nuzzled the hair beside her face. It smelt fresh and fragrant. He inhaled the scent and moaned. ‘Oh Mrs ... Brown, ... you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.’

Her struggling paused for a moment and fear swept across her face. ‘What... ‘ she stammered, ‘what do you want?’

Instead of answering he leant forward again and kissed her neck.

She kicked out, struggling hard to throw him off, but he pressed her back onto the bed and threw his right leg across her left.

‘No!’ she shouted again... ‘Get off of me!’

He clamped a hand across her face and whispered into her ear ‘Just keep still Mrs. Brown. - Keep still and you won’t get hurt.’

Her eyes were staring wildly, and her breath was coming in short hot pants into the palm of his hand.

Then he lifted his hand and, grasping the front of her shirt, tore it open. The silk ripped, a button flew off, and he was staring down at her bra. The low-cut black lace cups barely contained her breasts, so that part of the brown areola around her nipple was clearly visible.

He gave a long moan of appreciation and then said quietly, ‘Oh yeah, ... nice, Mrs. Brown.’

A look of fear came over her again and fixing his eyes on hers, he reached up and inserted his finger tips into the right cup of her bra. Then he slowly pulled it down until the breast sprang out. He closed his eyes and lowered his face, taking the nipple between his lips.

She arched her back, trying to wriggle free, but he began to suck, taking the firm stub of the nipple between his teeth. Then, reaching up, he wrenched the other cup down, freeing her other breast. In the soft light her breasts moved slowly, springing firmly to his caress.

He peered into her eyes again and smiled. ‘Wow ... you have great tits Mrs ... Brown. They are gorgeous.’

His hand had taken her right breast now, squeezing it, moulding it with his fingers, pulling at the nipple ... She gasped and gave a sudden sob. ‘Please. Don’t. Please just get off me, I won’t tell anyone about this,’ She pleaded. ‘Just let me go.’

He shook his head and put his left hand back over her mouth. Then he reached down and drew his finger tips across her left knee. She gave a jerk on the bed and shrieked into the palm of his hand, ‘No!’ ... He ignored her and ran his fingers over her knee ... Then he took the hem of her skirt and began pushing it up, slowly, one side at a time, revealing the stocking tops, the pale flesh of her thighs and the black lacy panties ... Then he put his hand onto her thigh, tracing the line of the stocking top, and then drew a line up the inside of her leg to where it met her panties.

He glanced down at what he had uncovered and took a long, pleasurable look at her panties. ‘Oh, Mrs ... Brown ... Wow!’

She frowned and shook her head rapidly.

He moved his hand and began massaging the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

Her face was flushed with an increasing look of panic.

Then his hand continued slowly upwards until the tip of his forefinger touched the tight fabric where the panties stretched between her legs. She gave a sudden jump and shook her head again whimpering imploringly ... He grinned now and pressed a finger into the fabric, feeling for the slot of her vagina. Her eyes opened wide and he stared into her eyes, holding her gaze as his fingers moved.