Chapter 2: Wild Thing

I spent a lot of time unpacking, discreetly watching Mrs. Cooke, and masturbating as I thought of her hands on me. And her lips and other parts, but my imagination wasn't up to that. I knew what someone else's hands on me felt like, finally, and it was good enough for a month's worth of fantasies.

Admittedly, unpacking was most of that. I wanted to start canvassing the neighborhood, looking for work, but there just wasn't time. We set up the beds, sorted boxes, moved furniture. Mom made Dad and I move the living room furniture around five times before she was happy. And we had a basement here, which we'd never had in North Carolina. Thankfully, I was in good shape, partly because I'd started the gardening job back in May before we moved. Before I even knew we were moving, really.

I was glad for the distraction. All my friends were back home, and I'd be starting a new school in the fall. I knew even then it was a chance to reinvent myself, maybe have a better experience. Still, I missed them. Between unpacking and her hands ... I missed them a bit less. I still wished I'd asked Angela out on a date, but I never had. You'd think fifteen was too young for regrets.

Once we got most of the stuff unpacked -- it was going to take all summer to really finish the job -- I pulled out my riding lawnmower and started doing the maintenance. It was time to mow our lawn at least. It wasn't all mine, but I'd paid for half of it. Dad paid for the other half, and I agreed to do our lawn "for free". Which was funny because I was doing it for free before I got the mower. I think it was just Dad's way of encouraging me.

It came through the trip okay, with just a ding on one of the sides. I cleaned up the engine and checked the spark plugs. It was much more complicated than the single cylinder push mower we'd had before. But then it had a real engine with a drive train and everything. I was firing it up when Mrs. Cooke came over.

"Time to do the lawn work?" she asked. She was carrying a couple water bottles and handed me one.

"Yep, the grass is getting a bit long over here," I said. "I see yours is as well."

"It is," she said. "I'm going to be doing some weeding in the flower beds, but if you'd mow the lawn after you do yours, we can talk about payment after?"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Cooke," I said.

"Brian," she said. "I think you should call me Janet."

"Sure thing. Mrs. I mean, Janet." I blushed, and she smiled.

"See you soon," she said and winked at me.

I swallowed and started my mower.

While I worked on my yard, she kept weeding. I managed my path so I could look over at her as much as possible. Once again her shorts were tight and her top loose-fitting. Normally I try to keep the lines on the yard as straight and neat as possible -- I think it's more professional that way. But today they were wavy and out of control, and in several cases, I had to back up and do an area over. When I got to her backyard she stepped up the game by unbuttoning her blouse the whole way, and letting me see the frilly white bra she had on underneath it.

Thankfully -- for my business at least -- she went inside when I did her front lawn so it was neat and good looking. Since she did her own weeding and flower beds, that was all there was to it. As I rolled my mower into our shed she waved at me from inside. "I've got lemonade!" she yelled through her kitchen window.

I laughed, adjusted myself, and took a deep breath.

I was about to lose my virginity. Or I hoped so anyway. I mean, mowing a lawn is a big step up from bringing in a few groceries, right? Not just blowjob worthy but like full on sex. Not that I'd turn down my first blowjob, either. "Get it under control, Brian," I said to myself. "Try to be cooler than you are.".

I went inside and Janet was standing at her kitchen counter with her back to me. She wore only a white terrycloth robe, which ended just above her knee. Her hair was down and flowed in brown waves down her back. She turned around and handed me a glass of lemonade and a sandwich plate. "Eat up. You need to maintain your strength," she said.

"Thanks," I said taking it. The folds of the towel met in a wide V somewhere below her breasts, where the robe was tightly cinched around her waist. I quickly ate the sandwich and drank the lemonade. "It's good."

"Thank you," she said, leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek. She smelled of flowers and baby powder. I realized then that I didn't smell so good, and so did she. She leaned back, her nose wrinkled. "Shower time," she said. "There's one in the basement." She pointed at a door in the kitchen, and I finished off the lemonade and went downstairs.

I found the shower and climbed in. A few minutes later, I heard her open the door. "Just dropping off a towel," she said. My heart was racing and my cock was hard. Was this how normal people did things? I'd never been naked with anyone. I'd never seen a woman naked. And for a split second there, I thought I'd be showering with one.

I didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

I finished up my shower and dried off with one of the largest, fluffiest towels I'd ever seen. My clothes were gone, even my shoes. I just shrugged and wrapped the towel around my waist. As I stepped out of the bathroom, I heard her call me from deeper in the basement. It was enclosed and had carpet, a sectional sofa and a TV. Ours wasn't finished like this, and I thought it was pretty nice.

The best part, of course, was the beautiful almost-naked woman in the center of the room. "Wow," she said. "You really are well built." She walked over to me, and ran her hands over my belly. I looked down, and realized how much weight I'd lost over the past few months. Gone was the nerd paunch, replaced by something women rubbed their hands over. My cock bobbed.

I reached out to her, and ran my hands over her breasts through the robe, and she stepped back. "Have you ever seen a woman naked?" I started to answer, "In real life, not Playboy," she said.

"No," I said. "I'm looking forward to my first time."