It's strange that that was the way that he thought of her for so many years, that is as 'the woman down the block'. That's who she was. He never knew, certainly not at first, why she was 'different' than the rest of the people on that particular block of Cedar Street but that seemed to be the case. Only gradually, later, did he discover that Mrs. Olmann was a jewish lady living on their block, in fact the only jewish lady living on their block and that apparently made a difference to many of the others that lived there.

She had a son and daughter, who were married and already gone out of the house, by the time Jaime Donnelley got to know her. Her husband by that time was already gone and she wore, most of the time, black. It was a pattern for some women in those long ago days, the wearing black, when they were widowed.

His, what he would call later, 'association' with Mrs Olmann, whose first name was Amalia, began as a kind of accident.

Jaime was in the raging hormones era of his life just then. He'd discovered jerking off, the pleasure of masturbation, 'meing and meing' instead of 'heing and sheing' or 'no way', 'heing and heing'. It was an intense time. Everything, everyone caused him to have robust, rainbow colored dirty thoughts, it seemed.

He wondered what women, that he would see causally, looked like in their underwear. He wasn't above trying to get a peak at his Mom now and again, but worked to keep that impulse well under wraps. He also peeked at his sister time and again but she seemed to be crafty enough to know 'his game' and wouldn't cooperate. It was an exciting time in his life.

He was perpetually frustrated, and wasn't sex educated enough, at the time, to understand exactly why he was frustrated. That kind of knowledge would come to him but wasn't there yet.

There weren't, at least in his neighborhood, that many kids around. There were a few and he palled around with them but they weren't home just then. Eddie from up the street was away at a camp, and Jonesy, down the street way down at the corner was spending time with his Dad. He at times wondered what that might be like, since he had no Dad that he ever remembered.

To pass the time he stood in the back yard and hit a baseball. It was part of the game to go running after the ball, after he'd hit it, and that was okay for him. He liked, at his age, running and sports. It helped to keep his growing and burgeoning libido under control. He didn't realize that fully but would in later times.

The bat was a new one that he was kind of trying out, seeing if it would make a difference. He wasn't playing organized baseball these days. Hitting a fast ball wasn't, as it turned out, his cup of tea. He'd tried out for Little League as a 12 year old but they had spots on the teams for only 2 or 3 kids and he missed the cut. His only stab at it was at school but that hadn't turned out well.

But he was as much still devoted to baseball as he was to letting his dirty thoughts roam free and letting his hand seek out his erection to complete whatever scene was in his mind.

One things was true, however. Among those dirty thoughts, those scenes that rummaged around in his mind, those thoughts of neighborhood women in their underwear, Mrs Olmann, the strange woman in the middle of the block, who wore black, and was called, in the local youthful élan and misinformation, the 'black arrow', probably because her skin was kind of olivey in color, never figured. She was never in those sexual thoughts that haunted, and dominated his excitable mind. Not in those days!

He hit the ball well that day, to his surprise, and it sailed away. He watched and with chagrin and a bit of anger, realized that it went into 'Black Arrow's garden.

"Crap!" he complained, knowing that he'd have to sneak into her garden then and fetch the ball, always a risky thing. It was risky because they thought it was, not particularly because she was mean or anything like that. It was just kind of risky. That was the prevailing notion. But Jaime was not about to lose the ball. He'd never been able to hit the ball that far in the past. It sailing into her garden was such a surprise for him.

He went sullenly down the small hill and out into the alley behind the house. Past the near neighbors' house, the Craines, and then walked slowly, silently, cautiously up into her back yard. He stopped now and then and looked around. He saw no one.

"She's not home!" he almost sang to himself, totally pleased, and stole forward.

He got to the gate and silently opened it. He thought that he knew what part of the garden it had entered.

Now, Mrs Olmann's garden was her chief delight. She worked out there constantly. It was large and grown up with bushes and some trees. It had a vegetable patch. It had a flower area. It was pretty amazing but she was such a solitary woman that no one, it seemed, ever got to look in her garden.

He went sneaking through the garden and did spy the ball. He smiled. He was about to put one over on 'the black arrow'. He was grinning.

He bent to retrieve the ball and that's when he saw her!

She was home! She wasn't away at all and he was about to be caught.

But Jaime Donnelley had an immediate problem. He was rooted to the spot. He, in that first instance, couldn't move.

There, unaccountably, illogically and magically, it seemed, was Mrs Olmann, sunbathing! She was lying on a blanket.

No one knew that she liked to sunbath in her garden. No one knew that the very vastness and overgrown nature of the garden allowed her, their 'black arrow' to indulge this one small pleasure.

She was sunbathing and he was staring! She had a pair of light tan panties, and that was all; they were simply draped over her pubic area but he could see the hair, the large, very dark patch of hair. He cold see it! She had large breasts that kind of moved a little to the sides, since she was lying down on her back. Her nipples were a dark contrast to her olive colored skin, and she seemed to be dozing.

He had his ball, he had to leave, and his prick was standing at attention and singing the national anthem!

Then a few things happened at one time:

She opened her eyes. To his absolute amazement, she said nothing. She stared at him, who was staring down at her. She moved one hand so that the arm was across her breasts and sheltering her nipples. The other hand went down to shelter her pubic patch.

He was staring, almost rooted to the spot, and then, in what he was sure was the craziest impulse of his life, reached down and actually pushed her one hand away and moved the panties.

He was acting on automatic pilot just then. He never knew why or how he was aware that he could do those things. He had never questioned them, certainly not at the time, he just did them.

Once he'd moved her panties, and had moved that shielding hand from her pubic area, she didn't try to put it back. It encouraged him no end! He reached down--his next almost crazy, but very effective move, and grabbed her wrist. He skin was hot from the sun and he moved her arm so that her breasts were no longer protected. Her breasts were free to look at. He'd dropped her arm by her side, like the other one that he'd moved from her pubic area, and she left them there. She only stared up at him, only that.

Then Mr Crazy--what he called himself periodically afterwards for what he'd done--went on to his craziest act of all!

He never took his eyes off of her, and she stared up at him. He couldn't read the thoughts racing through her mind but wished that he could. She didn't move. In one swift movement, he knelt so that he was kneeling by her head and unzipped his shorts.

She looked at him simply wide eyed, as he took his erection out of his pants and began to jerk off!

Right there! Right there with the 'black arrow' lying there naked, he jerked off! 'Madman! Wild Man! Crazy Man!' is what he'd call himself later but right then there didn't seem to be any decision about it. It was what he needed to do.

He didn't last very long. In a very short time, he was cumming all over her face, almost impassive face. She watched and simply closed her eyes to keep him from getting it in her eyes.

When he was done, she opened her eyes and kept looking at him. It was then that he came to the realization that she was actually beautiful.

"Who would have thought it," he mused with himself, as the put his penis away, 'The Black Arrow is a babe!"

He wasn't sure later if that was the case or if it was simply that she was the first actual, live naked woman that he'd seen.

Naturally then he compounded the craziness right away. He moved, shuffled on his knees so that he was kneeling at her waist and, grabbing her hips, he moved her onto her stomach, so that he could see her ass. He wanted to see her ass.

He stared! It seemed plump, nice and rounded. He moved her again onto her back, this was the only time that he touched her. And then, his last act of craziness, he took the panties from the ground, where they'd landed and put them in his pocket, for god's sake!

"Came for my ball!" he said, as if to explain, why he'd been there, and jerked off on her face.

She nodded. He noticed that. She actually nodded and, not knowing what else to do, he left! Left the garden and didn't look back. It was like Orpheus and Euridice all over again. He didn't look back. Nor did he play with the ball and bat anymore that afternoon.

He went home and went to his room to read, and, the obvious needs to be added, to jerk off again.

Of course, it never left his mind! Not for a second! Not for a nano-second! It dominated his thinking, and the more he thought of it, the stranger it seemed.

For there was one part of the whole, entire scene that he couldn't immediately fathom, or get his mind around: the way she acted, or stating it more clearly, the way she didn't act!

It went through his mind like a proven mantra time after time: she had to have heard the ball enter the garden. She wasn't sleeping that soundly. She did nothing!

That was it. She did nothing, nothing to prevent him, nothing to send him home, nothing to threaten him, cry out, make a fuss or anything like that! Nothing! It lodged in his mind and he kept thinking about it all the time.

Eventually a crazy thought came home to him, one that he couldn't get out of his mind. It was that he needed to return her panties. He'd stolen those, after all, and had to give them back.

He didn't want to reflect on what he might be actually thinking in going back to see her; he pushed that aside and only thought of returning the panties. It bothered him and stayed on his mind enough that he decided to actually do it the next day.

He'd made his decision at night before picturing her nakedness again and jerking off again.

He was out and free in the afternoon, and wandered down the block. No one seemed to be out in the August heat. He went to her door and was breathing hard, not knowing what kind of reception he might actually get from her, from 'the black arrow'.

He was, he realized, beginning to have difficulty calling her that. Their 'association', if it could be called that and not a freak of nature somehow, kind of pushed him beyond the derogatory name calling stage.

He finally, resolutely knocked on the door. He realized also immediately that he had an erection.

"Shit!" he said to himself, the nerves starting to take over completely.

He didn't, right then, feel like the cool operator that took over in the garden, when he found her sunbathing. He didn't feel that cool at all.

Then the door opened. She stood there. Things changed again.

He smiled. The smoothness, let's call it that for want of any better explanation, was back, and there were crowding impressions that hit him suddenly. She was actually pretty, very pretty in fact. She was smiling at him, and he knew that he was smiling at her. She was wearing a kind of kimono style, silkish robe, which she held together with one hand. The robe was multi colored and dazzling. He'd never thought of her wearing colorful things. He liked it.

"Good afternoon, uh ... Mr Donnelley," she said softly.

"Jamie!" he said in return.

"Good afternoon, Jaime," she said.

She stood back then and without a word let him pass her and enter her house.

He was momentarily stunned! He was actually in Mrs Olmann's house, Black Arrow's house! But he shook off the surprise and, remembering his manners returned her greeting:

"Good afternoon..."

"Amalia!" she said smiling.

"Good afternoon, Amalia!" he said.

Two things happened then at the same time. He held out the panties, which he'd brought back to her, and she dropped the hand that was holding the robe together. The robe swung open, showing the expanse of her olive colored skin.

"Lovely!" he said to himself.

Then it swung open wide enough for him to see that she was wearing a pair of white, cotton panties.

For some reason, one that he didn't take time to explain or reason with, he was displeased with the white, cotton panties.

His new persona took over and he said what was on his mind: "Those are ugly."

She got a kind of shocked look on her face, as though she were mourning a bit or saddened a bit by displeasing him.

"These are prettier!" he said, holding out the panties that he'd brought back for her.

She took them from him, as he reached out and pushed the robe off of her shoulders. She smiled and shook her shoulders to help him get it off of her.

Then she swept the white, cotton panties down and off. She simply threw them to the floor, as though discarding them forcefully. She looked at him. He was dazzled again by her nakedness, by the slope and heft of her breasts, the contrasting, dark buttons of her nipples. His erection was almost pulsating.

He reached out and petted one breast, while she sighed and momentarily closed her eye. She opened her eye and gazed at him.

There was no doubting the fact now that he was in charge of what was happening here.

He nodded at her, and she began to put the panties on. She reached out to him to help steady herself, as she stepped into them, pulling them up into place.

When she had her panties back on, he reached out and ran his hand, appreciatively, over the plane of her stomach, so nice and firm beneath the lovely nylon fabric.

She sighed.

"Thank you for bringing them back, Jaime!" she said.

"I don't like the other kind," he said, "These are better, feel nice."

"Yes, I know," she said, "Feel nice! They do!"

Then it was as though THE minute was there.

"May I?" she asked and he shook his head 'yes', not fulling knowing, or realizing what she had in mind.

She moved against him and put her arms around his neck. She kissed him.

The instant thought was that she, Mrs Olmann, the Black Arrow, was actually kissing him but that was only part of the astounding revelation. She was kissing him and was wearing only panties!

He thought that he was going to explode.

His hands were on her back and they slid down until they came into contact with the waist band of her panties. It was obvious to him immediately that he could do whatever he wanted.

He was kissing her, this neighbor who they all thought was so strange, kissing her, while she was almost naked!

His hands slid further down and now ran over the plumpness of her butt cheeks. She made a small noise, when he finally had a butt cheek in each hand. He squeezed them and played with them, forcing them apart and pinching them just a little. He loved it. He also noticed that she was wiggling her butt against his hands.

"I can't stay long!" he said with great regret in his voice.

"Oh, okay," she said and then she moved with a kind of determination.

She stepped back just a little and unzipped his shorts. Then she fished his erection out of his shorts, and smiling up at him, began to play with him.

"You're so pretty, Mrs Olmann!" he said.

"Amalia!" she reminded him.

"Amalia!" he corrected. "So pretty!"

"Thank you, Jaime," she answered, "I'm glad you think so."

Then his mind was captured by the feelings he was having in his erection. She had her hand on it, and was slowly, ever so slowly jerking him. She moved her hand and pulled the skin on his erection with every movement.

"Is this nice? Is this the way?" she asked.

"Nice! The way!" he said.

She continued to do it, only stopping now and then to get up on her toes and kiss him.

Trumpets were going off in a part of his mind: "She's playing with my dick! Mrs Olmann is playing with my dick! How cool is that!"

"Getting close?" she asked softly.

"Yes, close!" he said, realizing that close didn't really describe the explosion that he knew was right around the corner.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Get it all over myself," she said with a kind of giggled laugh.

The voice in the back of his head, registering these events for further reference was back: "She giggles! The Black Arrow ... Mrs Olmann giggles! Amalia giggles!"

It was probably then that the name, the derogatory name they'd pinned on her, the Black Arrow, faded from his mind and his use. From then on it was mostly Amalia.

He came then. He came in what seemed to him like buckets! He came all over her: on the plane of her flat stomach, on the front panel of her panties, all over her panties, on the space between her breasts. He came all over her, and it left her smiling up at him.

"Thank you, Jaime, Mr Donnelley!" she said, adding the latter name with a certain amount of respect.

He noticed that, and it pleased him.

"These are messy," she said then, indicating the beige panties that she'd been wearing and she held on to him to steady herself as she took them off.

He took them from her hand. She watched, as he wiped off the cum from the rest of her front.

"Thank you," she said.

Then the impulse came, much like the impulse he'd had in the garden to kneel by her head and jerk off into, onto her face. He smiled as he reversed the panties in his hand and he wiped her face with them. In the process he got the cum, the sticky white stuff that was all over the panties, all over her face.

When he'd finished that, she was grinning at him totally.

"Thank you," she said. "Little attentions! Very nice! Thank you!"

He kissed her lightly then and said to her: "I really have to go."

"Yes, I know," she said.

He turned to go, and stopped, looking back at her.

"The door!" she said, "It won't be locked for you."

"Won't be locked!" he repeated.

"No, the key is in the flower pot," she went on. "Please use it."

"Yes, I'll use it," he said.

"It won't be locked for you," she repeated.

"Good, I know that!" he said.

Then a thought crossed his mind: "Don't put those back on!" he was pointing at the white, cotton panties on the floor.

"No, of course not!" she said, "You don't like them."

He left then. By the time that he was outside, looking carefully both ways up and down the block. No one was out on Cedar that he could see, he was in a daze again. It was running and running in his mind, tumbling over and over, with almost a life of itself. He knew that he had to go to his room and think about it, think about it a lot.

CRAZY THINGS

In the days to come, it never left his mind at all. The things that happened at that particular time, in his relating to Amalia, was what he called the 'Crazy Things'. It was strange but he always felt at home, at ease and, really, in charge with her, when they were together. It was a time when he let his fertile mind run with ideas that he wanted to try with this very compliant woman. He was constantly bombarded by images of what he might have done. It was almost as if the kid in him was being swept away by the needs, sexual needs of the developing man, the man he was becoming.

His mind proved a fertile ground for various fantasies that involved Amalia, Mrs Olmann! And he never tired of thinking of that, of the wonder of it, of the surprise of it: Mrs Olmann, Mrs Olmann, for god's sake! And him! With her, again, for the second time, naked!

He knew he'd go back soon.

His chance came on a day when his sister was at a friend's and his Mom was working.

He walked down the street, looking to the left and right, and not seeing anyone. He went up onto her porch and found the key in the flower pot.

He held his breath, as he unlocked the door.

He saw her immediately. She had a 'powder room' and was just sitting down on the toilet to pee, with her underwear, pink panties, around her ankles.

She saw him immediately and let out a surprised sound, putting her hand over her mouth in surprise.

He was in his 'zone' immediately. He stood, nodded and watched her. He grinned, and was very much in charge again, as he walked in her direction.

She was finished but she sat and didn't move, didn't move at all.

As he approached the powder room door, he said: "Amalia!"

"Hello, Jaime," she said, still sitting, her panties still around her ankles.

"Surprised?" he asked.

"Yes," she said softly.

"Flush!" he said and she did.

At the door of the powder room itself, he stopped for a moment. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and was determined to do it. Nor did it even cross his mind as a possibility that she'd say 'no' to him.

He smiled at her and, as she was watching him, he unbuttoned the waist band button of his shorts. He let them fall down and off, kicking his feet out of them, after taking off his sandals, and then he pushed his underwear down and off.

She was watching him intently, not moving, giving rapt attention.

"Are you ready, Amalia?" he asked.

"Yes, Jaime," she affirmed, "I'm ready."

He went into the powder room then and stood directly in front of the toilet, where she was still sitting, his erection poking out in front of him.

"That's very nice, Jaime," she said, "Very big, wonderfully big!"

He grinned at her and reached out, totally sure of himself, and grabbed a bit of her hair. She blinked once and opened her mouth wide. He smiled down at her, as she stared up at him and let him proceed. With his hand in her hair, he pulled her face forward, and she reached out to brace herself, grabbing the back of his thighs, so that he wouldn't suspect that she was trying to hold him off or not comply with his wishes.

He got the message and, still smiling, rubbed his erection along her lips.

She darted her tongue out and licked the head of it, as it passed along her lips.

"Mmmmm," she said, as she licked, and he laughed.

"Got you, Amalia!" he said.

"Yes," she admitted and went back to the licking.

"Got you, cock sucker!" he said, pleased with himself for that little bit of dialogue.

"Oh, yes," she said, and sucked the head of his erection into her mouth.

She held in in her hand at first and said to him: "Just do it now as though you were making love to my face, and I won't use my hand!"

"Yes, no hands!" he said, his breathing getting ragged.

He did as she'd suggested and began to move his hips so that he was moving the erection in and out of her mouth. She had her hands first on the back of his thighs again and the slid them around so that she could grab his ass cheeks.

"Mmmmmmmmm," she moaned again, as he moved his hips toward her face.

He held her by the back of her head and pushed himself into her mouth as far as he'd go. She tried to gag but fought it back. He wouldn't relinquish the hold on the back of her head, he kept his erection there deep in her mouth and the edge of her throat. She seemed to be dealing with the discomfort well. He was pleased.

It was there when he finally began to cum.

She struggled; she coughed; she almost retched but she kept it in her mouth, working to swallow.

He let her hair go then and she leaned back, still seated on the toilet.

"Let's go to the kitchen," he said, "I want you to do that again!"

She smiled and got up, pulling up her panties.

"Only those," he said, "Leave the others around your ankles.

She nodded and did what he wanted. It gave him such a feeling of power to be able to order this woman around and have her do what he wanted her to do. He smiled, as he watched her shuffling her way into the kitchen. On the way, he picked up his underwear and shorts.

In the kitchen, he had her sit down on a kitchen chair. He looked down at her thinking. He liked the way that she looked sitting in her kitchen in her panties because he told her to do that.

"Clothes off, Amalia!" he said, "Everything. Naked blow job for me!"

"Naked blow job for Jaime!" she said in a pleasant tone of voice.

He was once more impressed with how accommodating she was, and the way that they'd always used bad names for her and all.

He just watched as she struggled out of her clothes. She stood silently, when she was naked and waited for him to act.

He reached out first and played with her breasts. It caused her to close her eyes and sigh a huge sigh.

"How does this feel?" he asked, twisting and pinching a nipple.

"Ohhh,"she said, "Hurts!"

"Bad?" he asked.

"No!" she said.

"Now?" he asked and pinched harder and twisted further.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she wailed and he smiled and let her nipple go.

"Know what now?" he asked softly.

"More cock sucking?" she asked in return.

"Yes, do you want to do that for me? More cock sucking?" he asked, enjoying using the words.

"Yes, I do, Jaime; I'll do what you want; every time!" she said.

He laughed and said: "Yes, I know that!"

He pushed his erection in the direction of her mouth, which was now open and waiting. He made this experience the same as the last one had been. It was rough! He held onto the back of her hair! He pushed far into her throat, almost making her retch one time. He kept at it and eventually had his hips in motion and simply held onto her and deeply fucked her mouth.

When he came, she wasn't ready for it. It exploded out of her nose and she coughed and had a rough time of it.

When he was done, he said to he: "Clean it now!"

"Yes, sorry!" she said, and licked him all clean, and cleaned her face.

He had a sudden inspiration and decided, in his new found role as the Master in charge here, to act on it.

"One more thing and I have to leave," he said.

"Yes, Jaime," she agreed, "One more thing."

He led her by the hand into the powder room again and sat her down on the toilet one more time.

"Ohhh," she moaned, not knowing what was going to happen.

He kind of let out a dirty giggle like laugh then and told her to open her mouth. When she did, with a cackle he began to pee into her mouth. He laughed his way through it and, she, for her part, simply let him do it and swallowed as much as she could.

He stepped back then and said: "And how was that?"

She looked up at him; her eyes were sparkling and she said: "That was fine, thank you for all of it, Jaime."

"Shall I come back again?" he asked.

"I wish you would," she said. "Maybe I can pay you for doing some work for me in the garden!"

He liked that idea, especially since it gave him a reason to be there with her, and he knew that he'd have more plans.

"Did you like what happened here today?" he asked again, watching her face closely.

She nodded and said: "Yes, Jaime, I did; please come again."

He left pleased, super pleased with himself, after promising to come the following Saturday to work in her garden.

"We can play more of my games then!" he said.

"Yes," she agreed, "More of your games then!"

A CHANGE

He went away from there definitely the man in charge. He knew that. It was one thing that these experiences had taught him. Mrs Olmann was going to do what she was told, every time, and he was the one telling her to do things.

He had a fleeting thought of what the local guys would say, if he told them. But he suppressed that thought, knowing that telling Eddie and Jonesy would lead to trouble somehow.

He would go back and would help with the garden but he was determined that he'd also make her do what he wanted. That's what just happened over there, at Mrs Olmann's house. He made her do what he wanted. He chuckled.

But was surprised, as some time went on that some of the mirth went out of it for him. It was a kind of a slow change but a change, nevertheless.

Like last week, he never stopped thinking about it. He thought about it, when he was in his room, by himself. When he was there, he played mental tapes again; saw it all again; lived it all again.

Only this time he was surprised that he didn't find it such a fine thing, the way he'd treated her, made her do disgusting things, enjoyed making a mess of her and doing those 'crazy things' to her.