Lemonade and Pussy - Cover

Lemonade and Pussy

by StangStar06

Copyright© 2014 by StangStar06

Erotica Sex Story: I got my heart broken twice, was the third time the charm?

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Tear Jerker   Cheating   Rough   BBW   Big Breasts   Violence   .

Hi folks. This is my first story of the two oh one four. it's a little bit long so you can stretch out and think about how flawed the charcters are and decide for yourself where they all went wrong. I'd love to hear your opinions on this one. This is an experiment into trying to make both crowds happy. I think there's enough revenge for the BTB people and enough romance for everyone else. But you never know. SS06


She's a good baby. That's what I thought as I started the lawn mower that bright Saturday morning. The Briggs and Stratton motor came to life with a roar in response to just one pull of the starter cord. I glanced at the two year old baby girl strapped into her car seat on our new porch. She looked back at me and smiled.

The sun was high in the sky and it was already over 80 degrees even though it was barely 9 in the morning. The famous Texas heat was clearly all it was cracked up to be. I had already changed into just a tank top and shorts to begin attempting to tame the overgrown forest that called itself a lawn in front of our new home in the Dallas suburbs.

If you'd told me two years ago that I would be a single parent living in Texas on the QT, I'd have laughed at you. But that was exactly what I was. As I forced my way through the overgrown lawn for the first time, it felt like I was always looking over my shoulder. I guess I was, both figuratively and literally.

I was literally looking over my shoulder to make sure my daughter was okay. I'd pushed the car seat far enough away from the edge that I didn't have to worry about her wiggling movements causing the seat to fall off of the low porch. But I also did it to keep her out of the sun. As usual I'd made sure she was close enough that she'd be able to see me all over the yard.

Somehow at twenty-nine years old, fighting my way through the overgrown grass made me feel old. I remembered that when I was a kid, I could cut the grass at my parents' home and then do our two adjacent neighbors houses in about two hours and never even breathe hard. I especially enjoyed doing the grass at the neighbors' houses because they paid me. But now, I was only halfway done with a much smaller plot of grass and I was exhausted.

I almost didn't hear her approach. She was certainly light on her feet. When I did hear her, she was only a few feet away from me. I whirled around ready to either fight or grab my daughter and flee. She was already in her car seat and my Mustang was pointed towards the street in our driveway. I kept copies of all of our important papers in the car and a good set of fakes too. We could be out of anywhere in seconds if need be.

But there was no need. "Hi neighbor," she smiled. She was a bigger girl. A very bigger girl, but she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. There was an almost musical quality to her voice. For her size she was extremely proportionate. Her boobs were huge. Even encased in what must have been an industrial strength brassiere under her light top, they dominated the area. Her waist was pretty small for a big girl and her ass was pretty tempting. Her legs were very tight and tan and shiny with some sort of lotion or oil. Her feet drew me like magnets. Her shoes were very tiny with open toes and her toenails were painted the same shade, that I call "Whore Red," as my Mustang.

She didn't shy away from my appraisal. In fact, she reveled in it. It was almost as if my gaze felt like warm rays of sunshine on her generous curves.

"Welcome to the neighborhood," she gushed. "I thought I'd come over and meet you and the lady in your life. If there's anything I can do to help you become comfortable in our little town, just ask."

I smiled and tried not to stare at her boobs and failed miserably. "Come on and meet her then," I said. It was then I noticed the tray she was carrying. There were three frosty glasses of an un-named liquid on the tray. We got to the porch and I stopped in front of the car seat. "This is my daughter Alyssa. I call her Allie for short." She put the tray down on the porch and looked at my daughter.

Allie's face immediately screwed up. Her little lips pursed and her eyes hardened as if the woman was invading our territory.

"Oh my God," gushed the woman. "You must've just spit her out whole. She has your hair color, your eyes, and even your nose. Does she have any of her mother's features? Bring the lady of the house out here so I can meet her too."

"You just met her," I said. "I'm Mike. There's only Allie and me."

"Even better," she gushed, her smile got just a bit brighter. "I'm Margarita. You can call me Rita. I saw you working in your yard and thought I'd invite you two over for dinner on my deck later."

"We'd love to," I said. " ... If it's not too much trouble."

She smiled and reached over to the forgotten tray. "And since you're out here working in the heat, I brought you some of my famous..."

"Water?" I said tersely. My smile had faded and I stopped staring at those incredible pillows hiding beneath her shirt.

She had leaned back as she sat on the porch, which only seemed to make them even more prominent. "No, Silly," she smiled. "It's my world famous lemonade. Would you..." In that second everything changed. It was as if the birds stopped singing. I tensed up, noticeably. Allie's face got red and she started to cry, reaching for me even as it started.

"What happened?" she asked in confusion.

"I think she's had too much sun," I spat. "I'm going to take her inside."

"But... !" she said to my back as I scooped up my daughter and escaped into our house.

It took me almost an hour to calm Allie down. I fed her and cleaned up the milk she spilled. Then I did her favorite thing. I picked her up in my arms and carried her around the house rocking her and telling her favorite story. It only took five minutes to get her to go to sleep. Once she was asleep, I sat her back in her car seat and went to finish the grass.

Perhaps I was fueled by anger, or maybe I'd done the harder sections in the morning, but it didn't take me any time to finish the yard. After that I got the bucket out and dragged my cart of supplies out and washed my car. As I finished, I heard two things competing for my attention and curiosity. The first was the sound of Allie waking up over on the porch and calling for me as she tried to get out of her car seat. Allie could walk as well as any two year old, but she couldn't undo the straps on the car seat. That had saved her from mischief more times than I could remember.

As I rescued my daughter from her car seat, I heard the second thing that had piqued my curiosity. It was the sound of soft piano music coming from next door. I wondered if Rita played the piano. I went up to the second floor of my house and looked out the window into the yard next door. Her yard, unlike mine was beautifully landscaped.

She had a very nice deck and what looked like a hot tub. Rita was lying on the deck on a recliner. She was wearing a very skimpy swim suit despite her size. She was reading a bunch of papers and apparently making some sort of notes on them. I got the idea that maybe she was a teacher grading papers. Another thing that played into that theory was the glasses that she wore perched on the end of that beautiful nose.

I have to admit that I spent more time looking at those huge boobs that were literally spilling out of the cups of the swim suit's top. She looked around as if her boobs had sensors on them and she could tell that someone was staring at them. Her dark red hair glowed in the fading sunlight and the expression on her heart shaped face was angelic. I began to feel badly about the way that I'd treated her earlier.

"Are you hungry Allie?" I asked my shadow.

"Hungry, Allie," she said.

I grabbed her up in one arm and headed out into my back yard. I knocked on the tall fence between our yards and said, "Hey," loudly.

A few seconds later I heard the sound of something being dragged over to the fence. Then I saw Rita's beautiful head sticking over the top of the fence. She smiled wryly. The way her nose crinkled awed me. Her eyes were huge. They were the most luminous brown eyes I had ever seen. Her long eyelashes and perfect Cupid's bow mouth made it impossible for me to look away.

"Mike, can you hear me?" she asked. "Is the music too loud? Why are you staring at me like that?"

I shook my head to clear it first and then told her. "Rita, I came to apologize for the way I acted before. It actually had nothing to do with you. I guess I was remembering something from our past and it made me jumpy."

"Apology accepted," she smiled. "But I'm pretty thick skinned. You didn't actually do anything wrong. It happens sometimes. People are all different. Believe me; I know that I'm not everyone's cup of tea."

"Uhm, so is it too late for that dinner, you promised us?" I smiled.

"I didn't promise," she gushed. "I offered."

"And I accepted," I gushed right back. "So here, I'm coming over." I handed her Allie over the fence and she was surprised but she took her. I then scrambled over the fence to her uproarious laughter.

"Wow, you two must be really hungry," she laughed.

"Hungry, Allie," spouted my daughter.

"I'll go put on something less comfortable, while you light the grill," said Rita.

"You don't have to change on my account," I offered.

"I'll bet," she smirked, looking down below my belt. I suddenly realized that I had a very apparent boner. "I don't want you to burn that thing on the grill. So I'm going to cover up a bit." She handed Allie back to me and walked away. I was mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she went towards her house.

I put my daughter on the recliner that Rita had just been on. I went over and looked at her grill. It was a small propane grill. It didn't have a push button start, but it was easy to figure out. I turned on the gas by a valve attached to the propane tank and then lit the burner with a lighter that she had on a shelf next to the grill.

Rita came back a few moments later with a couple of really nice looking steaks and some corn. The steaks had already been seasoned and marinated.

I looked at her suspiciously. "You knew I'd be back," I said.

"I took a chance," she smiled. I turned and saw my daughter struggling to get her legs off of the recliner. Her feet touched the deck and she fell onto her butt and then pushed herself up. She walked as quickly as she could towards the edge of the deck. I whirled to see what had drawn her attention.

Curled up in a corner of the deck on a big pillow was a large cat. Allie teetered over to the cat and introduced herself. "Allie, Cat," she proudly proclaimed. Then she dropped down to one knee and started rubbing the cat and giggling.

"Don't worry, she won't hurt her. She's a very old, very gentle Cat," said Rita. I put the steaks on the grill and Rita and I sat down to watch Allie playing with her new friend as the sun went down.

We had a nice time and the conversation flowed well. The playful banter between Rita and I was testament to our almost instant attraction. She was very open and I often found myself lost in those big brown eyes. Sometimes the things she said were so funny and so honest, at the expense of her own ego that I was sure I was falling in love with her.

I did leave once, to go back to the house to get some of Allie's favorite foods. I brought back some of her chicken nuggets which I warmed on the grill and some applesauce for her desert. I also brought her green beans even though she usually had to be distracted or starving to get her to eat them. Surprisingly though, I hadn't even able to convince her to come home with me.

"Allie, let's go home and get your dinner, baby girl," I said to her.

"Allie, cat, DA DA," she said firmly. I guess the look on my face was priceless. Allie had never before chosen anything else over me. And I was beaten out by a cat.

"Relax, Mike," said Rita. "I won't let anything happen to her during the three minutes it will take you to run home and grab her dinner."

My look was probably skeptical, because she continued to talk. If only she knew how big a leap of faith trusting her actually was. But for some reason, I was sure that I could trust Rita. I got ready to climb back over the fence and heard her giggling behind me. I turned and the laughter reflected in those brown eyes again stole my heart.

"Not that I wouldn't enjoy watching your butt as you scamper back over the fence, but wouldn't it be easier to use the gate?" she laughed.

"What gate?" I asked stupidly. She pointed and I saw the gate only ten feet from where I was attempting to climb.

"Guess what's located about three feet towards your house from my gate?" she asked. I shrugged my shoulders, lost in those eyes still.

"Your gate," she laughed. I walked to the gate opened it and closed it behind me. As she said, very close to the gate in her fence was a gate on mine that I hadn't noticed. I dashed into the kitchen and brought back the things for Allie's dinner.

While Allie ate we continued to talk. Rita told me about herself. She had grown up in a normal family in Florida. She thought that there was nothing special about her. Her boobs started growing at an early age and just never stopped growing. After college, she couldn't find a job and ended up doing some modeling.

"I know that shocks you because of my body," she said shyly.

"Not at all," I said. "I could really see you modeling."

"Mike, no you couldn't," she said. "It was embarrassing. It wasn't really modeling. I mostly modeled lingerie. I was so embarrassed. The money was great, but as soon as I got the chance to get out of it. I did. My job now, allows me to both keep my clothes on and to use the degree I worked my ass off to get in college. I'm an editor for a magazine about women's lifestyles." She looked at me and waved her hand in front of my face.

"I'm so boring, you fell asleep listening to me huh?" she asked.

"No, Rita," I said smiling. "You're so pretty I go into a trance looking at you."

She suddenly burst out laughing and didn't stop until she noticed that I wasn't laughing.

"Mike, I'm fat," she said.

"I think you're perfect, just the way you are," I told her. As if to prove that women are the most confusing creatures on God's green earth, she smiled ... but at the same time a tear rolled down her cheek. And those beautiful eyes that I'd been staring at all day, lost a bit of their luster.

Her next move was definitely an attempt to change the mood.

"Mike, I think the steaks are done," she said. "And I think that we should probably eat at your place."

I looked at where she was pointing and saw Allie, fast asleep with one hand on Rita's easily pleased cat.

"I'll get the food. You put the baby to bed," she said. Even as she said it, I got a tingle.

I picked up my sleeping daughter and carried her home. I put her in her bed and tucked one of her favorite stuffed animals in beside her. As usual I left her door open and the lights in the hall on in case she got up on the middle of the night. I also turned her baby monitor on. Since Allie could talk and walk, I didn't really need the monitor, but I still used it anyway.

I walked into the kitchen, looking for Rita and didn't find her. She was sitting in the couch in front of my fireplace. I wondered why the hell a house in Texas had a fireplace.

"Can we light it?" she asked. She stuck out her bottom lip and I knew that I would never be able to refuse her anything.

A few minutes later, we were sitting in the dark with only the fireplace for light. The air conditioning kept the Texas heat at bay and kept the fire from making the house even hotter.

"This is so romantic," she said. "That makes it even worse."

"Makes what worse?" I asked.

"Mike, I'm a good woman. So what you want isn't going to happen tonight," she said. She looked at me as if she was aching.

She scooted her big butt over next to me and put her head on my shoulder. "Mike, I didn't tell you everything," she said. "I left out a lot of the fine details. After college, getting a job was hard. Everything I was offered sounded great, but paid so little that I wouldn't be able to support myself. That was why I got into the modeling thing in the first place. And what I did wasn't exactly modeling. I was a web cam girl. Men and a surprising number of women paid money by the minute to see me and talk to me. And yes, Mike, I took my clothes off. For most of my life men have wanted to see my titties. And on the web site they got a chance to see them, and the rest of me too.

It was really good money but I hated myself while I was doing it. And the pressure to do more was incredible."

"What do you mean the pressure to do more?" I asked. She tried to pull herself away from me. But I grabbed her and pulled back where she was.

"They offered me a lot of money to do porn," she said. "Mike they offered me fifty thousand dollars to do a ten minute scene with my best friend, Brenda. I guess Brenda and I are opposites. I'm a cow, she's a butter face. She has the body of a swimsuit model, but her face..." I couldn't help laughing.

"And Mike, the world is a really messed up place. I guess my parents sheltered me too much. I had no idea how bad some people could be. There were lots of guys that I met, that told me and promised me everything..." Another tear came out and her voice broke. I hugged her tighter.

"Mike, most of them just wanted my tits. The funny thing is that most of them really couldn't handle it. I had a few who took me out and followed me around for days just to get a crack at me, but then freaked out as soon as I opened my blouse. I had a couple who came in their pants as soon as they saw my tits. None of them were the worst though. The worst was the guy who dated me for weeks. He painted the most beautiful picture you've ever seen, Mike. We were going to do this and we were going to do that. He was old fashioned like me, so we were supposed to get engaged when we'd been together for a year.

So I was all in. And I really thought that I loved him. We had been dating for about a month when I finally went to bed with him. And it was pretty good. There were things that I wanted him to do for me, that I did for him, that didn't happen. But I figured we couldn't do everything the first night.

There was never a second night. I awoke the next morning with my heart so full of love that I could barely contain it. I found out that I was the butt of all kinds of jokes at work the next day. Every guy in the studio was leering at me and making snide comments. I tried to call him but his phone went to voicemail every time. At lunch time Brenda came out of her room and quickly threw a towel on. She pulled me over to the ladies room and told me that my true love had told every person he ran into that he had fucked me. He told them everything they wanted to know about my body including some things that weren't true.

Mike my web cam site was tame by the standards they had back then. I didn't do total nudity. I did, at the end of every session, allow one of my breasts to show, but even then most of the nipple was concealed. Brenda knew about this. She herself had no such scruples. She wore a variety of masks to hide her face and to add some mystery, but she was totally nude most of the time and did things to herself that I don't do in my most private moments alone.

But even though we were best friends, it was hard for Brenda to tell me the rest. The asshole had somehow secretly placed his cell phone on the table next to the bed. And he had video of himself having sex with me. He put it up on the web and I had to literally sue him to get him to take it down. And he was telling everyone he ran into about it. Since then, I don't date or at least I haven't, because I've just lost the ability to trust people. I know I'm a big fat cow, but I have some feelings too.

I've often heard that for every guy that treats women like shit, there's some twisted bitch out there that made him that way. But Mike, there are a lot of really bad men out there too. I get the feeling that you like me a lot. You're not like the rest of those guys. I mean you look at my boobs too, I guess that's normal for men, but you spent a lot of time today looking at my face. And you like it. But if you want to get to know me, and I really, really hope you do, it's going to take you some time to get into my panties." She seemed almost sad as she said it.

"Mike, I really do like you too," she said. And she squeezed my hand as if trying to emphasize her point. "But we need to take things really slow because I don't want to be hurt again." I laughed then and her pretty face contorted. I got up and walked away from her. When I got back she was standing up and gathering her things.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I told you my sad little story and you couldn't get away from me fast enough," she said. "It made me sad but it just seems like you're another guy who thought that the fat girl was so desperate for love that she'd be an easy lay."

"Rita, you're starting to get on my nerves," I said. "A woman as pretty as you are should be more confident. Now get over here in your place."

"Where is my place, exactly?" she asked lifting one eyebrow.

"Right next to me, wherever I am," I said. She smiled another one of those brilliantly bright smiles and came over to me in front of the fire. I lifted my arm and she wrapped it back around herself. This time she was more at ease and one of those huge heavy breasts pushed against my side. She smiled up at me evilly. Apparently, though I wasn't getting any, she wasn't beyond teasing me.

"Rita, I'm sorry for the things that happened to you. That guy was a real asshole. But there are plenty of them on both sides of the gender fence. And you have no monopoly on heartache, Honey. I'm glad you told me your story, but you have to have faith that every person you meet isn't like that. You have to learn to trust again sometime.

Rita, do you know why I got up a few moments ago? I went to check on Allie. It's deeply ingrained in me. I check on her all the time. I get up in the middle of the night to check on her and then go back to sleep. I should have told you where I was going.

Honey, what I'm about to tell you could get me in a lot of trouble, but I trust you so I'm going to risk it. I have never trusted anyone with it before, so that should give you some idea of how I feel about you.

I work for the city. I'm a Civil Engineer. I'm still just learning the job in Dallas. It's a little different from the same job back in Michigan, but I guess every city does things a little differently.

I'm twenty-nine now, so yes, I'm a couple of years younger than you are and it doesn't matter one iota to me. But when this started I was twenty-six and had only been out of college for a couple of years. Yep, I didn't get my degree until I was twenty-four. I was in college for six years to get a four year engineering degree. I'm not a moron. The first two years I majored in football and fooling around.

I was so sure that I was going into the NFL that I never considered any alternatives. I had no plan B. During my second year I got an injury that laid me up for three months and ended any hopes of playing pro football. In retrospect, it was a good thing. And it was even better that it happened to me when it did.

It was a tough pill to swallow, but my parents raised me right. Just like yours did from what I can see. It took me a while before I could look at my old game films and see that I wouldn't have made it. I played football every day, starting from when I was five years old, to the day I got hurt. I put in fifteen fucking years of sacrificing everything to the gods of the pigskin.

There are so many people who do that. There are states like fucking Ohio that are nothing but football factories. Uhm, I like it here but Texas is kind of like that too. Anyway, there are a lot of players who are great at the college level, but end up being busts at the pro level. I can think of Joey Harrington, Rodney Pete, Tim Tebow and several of Michigan's latest quarterbacks who all fit the profile. Anyway, I was one of those.

I had all kinds of coaches and trainers blowing smoke up my ass and pumping my head up, hoping for a ride on the gravy train when I turned pro. But when I looked back at my game films after the injury, it was clear to me that I just looked awkward out there.

When I got back to school after the injury, I realized that I'd wasted two years of school. Most of the classes that I had taken were worthless. I had never even been serious enough to declare a major. If you look at colleges nowadays, it's still the same. Any athlete who lists general studies as their major, but doesn't take any English or math classes, is probably majoring in their sport.

So once I graduated, I decided to stay in Michigan. I loved it there. I love the change of the seasons. I love the fact that I could fish and water-ski all summer and do anything you can do in the tropical places all summer, and then do anything you can do in the snow-belt states all winter. The spring and the fall in Michigan have to be seen to be believed. People come from all over the world to experience the fall colors there, but fuck it; I probably won't be going back there any time soon.

So there I was two years after college, out with a crew in the suburb of Detroit that I worked for. The state was building a new freeway on-ramp. We had mapped out all of the affected homes in the area. But some of the people who were going to stay on their homes would be affected too. We'd have to reroute or relocate a lot of power lines, gas lines, telephone lines and sewer pipes to make room for the freeway.

It was at one of those houses that I met her. I got off the truck with my crew and we let her know that we'd be marking the gas pipes and underground utility structures under her property.

I pegged her as being in her mid to late thirties. She told me she was thirty-two. I didn't find out until much later that she had lied to me and that was one of the milder ones.

She looked like your average, every day, early middle-aged woman. She wasn't really anything special. You pass women like her on the street every day. Her hair was collar length and a light brown color that didn't stand out. She wore glasses. She also wore heavy eye make-up under her glasses which looks kind of odd to me. She was smoking a cigarette on the porch of her tiny ranch house that day that we started working on her property.

She looked at me and she kept looking. It was weird, even when I'd catch her looking at me, she didn't turn away. She actually came over to see what I was doing. While my guys were placing flags and markers, or testing the ground to see where certain things were located, I took down measurements. That way, I could draw a detailed, updated map of the property. After a while she was as close to me as you are right now. She wasn't ashamed of her body or any of her several tattoos. And there's just something kind of slutty about a woman who's past thirty, walking around in shorts that show the cheeks of her ass. She also bent over, supposedly so I could see her obnoxious tramp stamp.

She went back inside her house after a while and came back with a glass. "Would you like some of my world famous lemonade?" she asked. I thanked her and drank it down. It was as hot as hell that day. And shit, that lemonade really was good.

"Want some more?" she asked when I drained that first glass.

"I don't want to put you to any trouble," I said.

"It won't be any trouble at all, Honey," she said she walked back inside her house swinging her ass from side to side. When her ass swung like that it seemed to be bigger and less flat.

As soon as she was gone, my guys gave it to me. "Are you going to slip inside and fuck her now, or come back later?" asked my crew chief, Ronald Donald. No one called him Ronald. We all called him by his middle name, "Mack."

"What the hell are you talking about Mack?" I asked.

"Mike that old trailer park slut has the hots for you," he laughed. "Just remember these words of wisdom. Rule number one ... Wear two condoms. Just in case one breaks."

"Rule number two," cited another of the crew, Jack Tripper. "Make sure that you bring your own condoms, because hers are probably pre-punctured to make sure they have holes in them."

"Hey, she's not that old," I said. "She's only thirty two." They all started laughing at that too.

"Mike, her panties are older than thirty two," said Mack.

Before they could give me any more of their rules, she was back. She spent the entire afternoon, bending and posing in front of me while my crew could barely keep their faces straight. For a single young man, the attention was flattering. And towards the time when we packed up, she came right out and asked me to dinner.

"I don't suppose that after you finish up, you'd want to come back and spare an old woman the pain of eating dinner alone, would you?" she asked. "I never get used to eating alone. I'm not going to push you, but I just thought that since you're single and I'm single and I hate eating alone that ... I mean no strings attached and I wouldn't expect you to do anything that you're not comfortable with ... well I don't want to put any pressure on you. If you show up, we'll eat. But if you don't ... Oh well."

 
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