Nandita To Nandini
- 3 years ago
- 272
- 0
Of Lawns, And Terrycloth Robes free porn video
As of the summer before I started college, the extent of my sexual experience included an awkward handjob—that I had to finish off—from my first girlfriend, a blowjob from an older tomboyish chick who used to play two-hand touch football with us guys at the schoolyard, and an intense fingering of a very hairy, wet older pussy when I was a newspaper delivery person the summer before.
Needless to say, the extent of my personal relief, had been, well, personal. This was the last thing I expected months before going off on my own to college and what I imagined to be a world of boring classes and dorm room orgies.
I needed cash. My parents were paying tuition, but I had to cover my nut on books and expenses. I had saved some money, but needed to top it off. I figured I'd cut lawns in our middle-class neighborhood. I'd be outside, get a tan, get into some kind of shape, and make decent cash. It was a plan.
Best-laid plans, however.
Being the future entrepreneur I was, I started at the biggest swankiest house in the neighborhood. Big yard, Volvo in the driveway. I didn't know who owned the house, but figured it was like every other house on the block: bored married couple, 2.5 offspring, and a dumb annoying dog. Little did I realize that when I rang that doorbell, my life would flip upside down.
I heard the footsteps inside respond to the bell. They were kinda flat sounding, ah, barefoot. Maybe it was a hot older chick with saggy tits I could stare at while cutting her overgrown grass. The door smoothly opened; if it were darks out I swear it was a ghost opening that door and Lurch would be inside: "You raaaaang?"
But it was anything but. An older gentleman, my guess 65-ish, retired age. He was gray haired, but had most of his. Thin mustache. Seriously tanned. And he was definitely a runner. Tall, lanky, definitely in shape. None of that struck me at first. What did was that it was almost 80 degrees out and he was wearing a long thick white terrycloth robe. Must have been hot as fuck in that thing, but whatever. I explained what I wanted, and he smirked a lot and stared. Was he listening? Was he senile? I didn't care, he had money and I wanted my share of it for a summer's worth of pushing a lawnmower.
Finally he spoke, agreeing to me coming by every Friday morning or afternoon, cutting the grass and weeding, for $75 a week. I was blown away. For 1985, this was tremendous money for the service. I said I could start today and he agreed. He was going to sit outside, he said, and I could work around him, he awkwardly laughed. Whatever. I figured his wife was out and he was dipping into the gin and tonics a little early. He left the front door open a little and turned away, "Just get started whenever you're ready." That's what I heard him say as he walked away inside his house. I turned to respond and I saw him lower his robe to the floor and make the corner to another room out of sight. The guy was bare-assed. He was skinny and really tanned head to toe. Weird.
Fifteen minutes later I was shirtless and in jeans pushing a mower, sweating my balls off. Should have worn shorts.
His front yard wasn't all that big and I had it wrapped up fairly quickly. I headed toward the back yard and the sun was really beating down back there. I saw a lawn chair pointed toward the blazing ball in the sky. He heard me and stood up in the chair and said "Hi there, I'll be right here if you need anything." The guy was really fit, kinda sculpted and dark. He was also wearing one of those speedo things that guys on the swim team wore. The guy liked his body for sure. I was starting to put things together. Maybe there was no wife. Maybe he was a permanent bachelor. Maybe he was an egomaniac. Maybe he was gay. Who cares. He had money.
I made the first pass by him and he had headphones in, attached to a walkman on the lawn. His eyes were closed and it seemed that his hands were absent-mindedly adjusting his bulge. His speedos were greenish-blue and there were no mysteries. He had two balls right there and the head of his dick was right there, pointing south. His hand was just brushing the length of his cock. Hmm.
My second pass and his eyes were still closed, his mouth opened slightly like he was going to say something. His hand was still between his legs, but more toward where his balls were. The outline of his cock was pointing toward his chest. Cripes, the guy was hard. Just keep pushing the mower, ignore your rapid heartbeat, ignore the fact you wanted another peek. My reaction was as weird to me as this whole scene.
My next pass put me that much closer to being done. As I got closer, he stood up and folded his chair. "Too hot for me right now, heading inside. Just come in the back there and I'll pay you when you're finished." He gave me a smile. He was definitely bulging still. He was probably heading in to jerk off I laughed to myself. I'd turned on an old man, hahaha. I was even mature enough to admit I was kind of intrigued.
I finished the lawn and was proud of the job. The stripes were straight, and it looked damn good. I walked up the wide stairs of his back deck to the sliding doors. He said just come in, so I did. The sliders led to a media room of sorts, big TV, stereo equipment, a desk, and a big leather sofa. "I'm all set," I said kinda loudly. "Okayyyy" was the response from somewhere else in the house. Flat footsteps headed my way. There he was in his robe again, hair wet, he must have showered. As he came closer, I saw he had cash in his right hand by his side, and just to his left, his robe kicked open with each stride. It wasn't tied, and his dick was flopping out. It was soft, and flopped side to side. It was dark, but not like the rest of him, and it was resting on big balls. He surprisingly had very little pubic hair, strange for 1985.
I took all of this in during a matter of seconds. So much so that I hadn't noticed the big TV was turned on and an old-school VCR porno was playing. Some guy with a giant dick was pounding a blonde with big boobs, standard jerk-off material for me in my room late at night.
"Oh sorry, hope you don't mind. I enjoy it," he said.
"So do I," I blurted out for some reason. I don't know why, but those ended up being very fateful words.
I caught his interest. He'd definitely noticed that I kept looking at his cock too, it was hard to miss. And speaking of hard, it was getting hard too.
"A younger man like you shouldn't need porn," he laughed. "I guess you have a permanent boner at your age."
Again, for some reason, my tongue was ahead of my brain: "Always," I said.
I had his attention. He put his hands on his hips and his robe was spread open, not closing. His cock was bouncing in the air and I couldn't stop looking at it. "Do you need some relief," he asked me. I was really hard too. The whole scenario was overwhelming. He led me to the sofa and sat next to me. He probably sensed I was kinda in shock. He was a calm and told me that if I was uncomfortable, I could go. I didn't get up.
He said that we could just enjoy the movie together and that I could get more comfortable. He rubbed the length of his shaft. My cock was definitely bigger than his, but not by much. I'd never seen this outside a porn myself. My girlfriends had gotten me off but that was quick and less than memorable. This was really wild.
"You can stroke yourself if you like. You're among friends," he laughed. What the fuck, why not. The movie was actually kinda hot, and I was definitely turned on by this seduction.
I unzipped and my cock popped out. My thick, cut head was already kinda wet with precum. "All the way down, I want to see all of you." I slid my jeans down under my butt; I was totally exposed, cock, balls, and all.
"The girls in this neighborhood must love you. That's a beautiful dick," he told me. "Touch it."
He was getting off watching me. I stroked it like I had in my bedroom alone a thousand times. I knew what felt good and how to get myself off. I looked to my right and he was sitting side-saddle on the sofa, watching me, matching my strokes. I got lost, watching the movie, watching him, stroking every inch of my shaft to my very engorged head. I was sweating down my chest, and I could smell grass, perspiration, and sex in the room. It was intoxicating. I heard his breathing pick up, and he slid a little closer. "Mind?" I must have nodded no, it was fine because he was inches away from me.
He was still stroking his cock, facing me. I was getting past the point of no return. I was locked on him and his hands on his cock. "Cum," I said. I was trying to tell him I was going to cum, but he said "Oh yes, I can." and he sat back a little, took his free hand to his balls, massaged both of them and shot 3 spurts onto his pubes and stomach and hands. He barely made a sound, but he was in lust.
It was too much. I moaned a bit now and was right there. He perked up. "May I?" His right hand snaked to my balls and started doing the same thing to me he did to himself. It was so strange to be touched by a man. My girlfriend had grabbed my balls a couple of times and it felt like I was being punched instead of felt up. This was different.
He knew what he was doing, and why. It was beyond intense, and I was getting that feeling in my back and my ass and the shaft of my cock. I was going to cum and it was going to be enormous. I went from the bottom of my shaft, slowly up to the head matching the stream of cum shooting out of my cock. The first one went to my belly button, the second fired high into the air and landed on my stomach, the third on my chest, then much more all over my hands.
He was impressed. "I do love this so much," he said as he scooped up my cum and rubbed it onto his smooth chest, slid it along his nipples, and stomach. He massaged my chest, collecting more cum on his fingers. I swear he licked some up, but I couldn't testify to that.
"Need a rest?" he asked. I didn't I wanted to leave. That post-jerkoff letdown was in full effect. But I couldn't stop looking at his dick. He was half-hard, and wet from my cum. "Did you enjoy?" I did and I said so. He got up and I followed him to the deck sliding doors. His robe was barely on and he was practically nude facing outside. It was really erotic, have to admit. He gave me my cash for cutting the lawn. "See you next week?" he asked. My mouth ahead of my brain said "Absolutely." He laughed and put his hand on my chest. "It was fun, wasn't it?" he said.
I acknowledged with a smile. My hand, with a mind of its own, reached for his cock. I'd gone this far, and didn't know if I'd really be back next week. He touched his smooth shaft and the head of his dick. He gasped a little because I caught him off guard. I gave it a couple of tugs and definitely got some of our cum on my fingers.
"See you next week."
Needless to say, the extent of my personal relief, had been, well, personal. This was the last thing I expected months before going off on my own to college and what I imagined to be a world of boring classes and dorm room orgies.
I needed cash. My parents were paying tuition, but I had to cover my nut on books and expenses. I had saved some money, but needed to top it off. I figured I'd cut lawns in our middle-class neighborhood. I'd be outside, get a tan, get into some kind of shape, and make decent cash. It was a plan.
Best-laid plans, however.
Being the future entrepreneur I was, I started at the biggest swankiest house in the neighborhood. Big yard, Volvo in the driveway. I didn't know who owned the house, but figured it was like every other house on the block: bored married couple, 2.5 offspring, and a dumb annoying dog. Little did I realize that when I rang that doorbell, my life would flip upside down.
I heard the footsteps inside respond to the bell. They were kinda flat sounding, ah, barefoot. Maybe it was a hot older chick with saggy tits I could stare at while cutting her overgrown grass. The door smoothly opened; if it were darks out I swear it was a ghost opening that door and Lurch would be inside: "You raaaaang?"
But it was anything but. An older gentleman, my guess 65-ish, retired age. He was gray haired, but had most of his. Thin mustache. Seriously tanned. And he was definitely a runner. Tall, lanky, definitely in shape. None of that struck me at first. What did was that it was almost 80 degrees out and he was wearing a long thick white terrycloth robe. Must have been hot as fuck in that thing, but whatever. I explained what I wanted, and he smirked a lot and stared. Was he listening? Was he senile? I didn't care, he had money and I wanted my share of it for a summer's worth of pushing a lawnmower.
Finally he spoke, agreeing to me coming by every Friday morning or afternoon, cutting the grass and weeding, for $75 a week. I was blown away. For 1985, this was tremendous money for the service. I said I could start today and he agreed. He was going to sit outside, he said, and I could work around him, he awkwardly laughed. Whatever. I figured his wife was out and he was dipping into the gin and tonics a little early. He left the front door open a little and turned away, "Just get started whenever you're ready." That's what I heard him say as he walked away inside his house. I turned to respond and I saw him lower his robe to the floor and make the corner to another room out of sight. The guy was bare-assed. He was skinny and really tanned head to toe. Weird.
Fifteen minutes later I was shirtless and in jeans pushing a mower, sweating my balls off. Should have worn shorts.
His front yard wasn't all that big and I had it wrapped up fairly quickly. I headed toward the back yard and the sun was really beating down back there. I saw a lawn chair pointed toward the blazing ball in the sky. He heard me and stood up in the chair and said "Hi there, I'll be right here if you need anything." The guy was really fit, kinda sculpted and dark. He was also wearing one of those speedo things that guys on the swim team wore. The guy liked his body for sure. I was starting to put things together. Maybe there was no wife. Maybe he was a permanent bachelor. Maybe he was an egomaniac. Maybe he was gay. Who cares. He had money.
I made the first pass by him and he had headphones in, attached to a walkman on the lawn. His eyes were closed and it seemed that his hands were absent-mindedly adjusting his bulge. His speedos were greenish-blue and there were no mysteries. He had two balls right there and the head of his dick was right there, pointing south. His hand was just brushing the length of his cock. Hmm.
My second pass and his eyes were still closed, his mouth opened slightly like he was going to say something. His hand was still between his legs, but more toward where his balls were. The outline of his cock was pointing toward his chest. Cripes, the guy was hard. Just keep pushing the mower, ignore your rapid heartbeat, ignore the fact you wanted another peek. My reaction was as weird to me as this whole scene.
My next pass put me that much closer to being done. As I got closer, he stood up and folded his chair. "Too hot for me right now, heading inside. Just come in the back there and I'll pay you when you're finished." He gave me a smile. He was definitely bulging still. He was probably heading in to jerk off I laughed to myself. I'd turned on an old man, hahaha. I was even mature enough to admit I was kind of intrigued.
I finished the lawn and was proud of the job. The stripes were straight, and it looked damn good. I walked up the wide stairs of his back deck to the sliding doors. He said just come in, so I did. The sliders led to a media room of sorts, big TV, stereo equipment, a desk, and a big leather sofa. "I'm all set," I said kinda loudly. "Okayyyy" was the response from somewhere else in the house. Flat footsteps headed my way. There he was in his robe again, hair wet, he must have showered. As he came closer, I saw he had cash in his right hand by his side, and just to his left, his robe kicked open with each stride. It wasn't tied, and his dick was flopping out. It was soft, and flopped side to side. It was dark, but not like the rest of him, and it was resting on big balls. He surprisingly had very little pubic hair, strange for 1985.
I took all of this in during a matter of seconds. So much so that I hadn't noticed the big TV was turned on and an old-school VCR porno was playing. Some guy with a giant dick was pounding a blonde with big boobs, standard jerk-off material for me in my room late at night.
"Oh sorry, hope you don't mind. I enjoy it," he said.
"So do I," I blurted out for some reason. I don't know why, but those ended up being very fateful words.
I caught his interest. He'd definitely noticed that I kept looking at his cock too, it was hard to miss. And speaking of hard, it was getting hard too.
"A younger man like you shouldn't need porn," he laughed. "I guess you have a permanent boner at your age."
Again, for some reason, my tongue was ahead of my brain: "Always," I said.
I had his attention. He put his hands on his hips and his robe was spread open, not closing. His cock was bouncing in the air and I couldn't stop looking at it. "Do you need some relief," he asked me. I was really hard too. The whole scenario was overwhelming. He led me to the sofa and sat next to me. He probably sensed I was kinda in shock. He was a calm and told me that if I was uncomfortable, I could go. I didn't get up.
He said that we could just enjoy the movie together and that I could get more comfortable. He rubbed the length of his shaft. My cock was definitely bigger than his, but not by much. I'd never seen this outside a porn myself. My girlfriends had gotten me off but that was quick and less than memorable. This was really wild.
"You can stroke yourself if you like. You're among friends," he laughed. What the fuck, why not. The movie was actually kinda hot, and I was definitely turned on by this seduction.
I unzipped and my cock popped out. My thick, cut head was already kinda wet with precum. "All the way down, I want to see all of you." I slid my jeans down under my butt; I was totally exposed, cock, balls, and all.
"The girls in this neighborhood must love you. That's a beautiful dick," he told me. "Touch it."
He was getting off watching me. I stroked it like I had in my bedroom alone a thousand times. I knew what felt good and how to get myself off. I looked to my right and he was sitting side-saddle on the sofa, watching me, matching my strokes. I got lost, watching the movie, watching him, stroking every inch of my shaft to my very engorged head. I was sweating down my chest, and I could smell grass, perspiration, and sex in the room. It was intoxicating. I heard his breathing pick up, and he slid a little closer. "Mind?" I must have nodded no, it was fine because he was inches away from me.
He was still stroking his cock, facing me. I was getting past the point of no return. I was locked on him and his hands on his cock. "Cum," I said. I was trying to tell him I was going to cum, but he said "Oh yes, I can." and he sat back a little, took his free hand to his balls, massaged both of them and shot 3 spurts onto his pubes and stomach and hands. He barely made a sound, but he was in lust.
It was too much. I moaned a bit now and was right there. He perked up. "May I?" His right hand snaked to my balls and started doing the same thing to me he did to himself. It was so strange to be touched by a man. My girlfriend had grabbed my balls a couple of times and it felt like I was being punched instead of felt up. This was different.
He knew what he was doing, and why. It was beyond intense, and I was getting that feeling in my back and my ass and the shaft of my cock. I was going to cum and it was going to be enormous. I went from the bottom of my shaft, slowly up to the head matching the stream of cum shooting out of my cock. The first one went to my belly button, the second fired high into the air and landed on my stomach, the third on my chest, then much more all over my hands.
He was impressed. "I do love this so much," he said as he scooped up my cum and rubbed it onto his smooth chest, slid it along his nipples, and stomach. He massaged my chest, collecting more cum on his fingers. I swear he licked some up, but I couldn't testify to that.
"Need a rest?" he asked. I didn't I wanted to leave. That post-jerkoff letdown was in full effect. But I couldn't stop looking at his dick. He was half-hard, and wet from my cum. "Did you enjoy?" I did and I said so. He got up and I followed him to the deck sliding doors. His robe was barely on and he was practically nude facing outside. It was really erotic, have to admit. He gave me my cash for cutting the lawn. "See you next week?" he asked. My mouth ahead of my brain said "Absolutely." He laughed and put his hand on my chest. "It was fun, wasn't it?" he said.
I acknowledged with a smile. My hand, with a mind of its own, reached for his cock. I'd gone this far, and didn't know if I'd really be back next week. He touched his smooth shaft and the head of his dick. He gasped a little because I caught him off guard. I gave it a couple of tugs and definitely got some of our cum on my fingers.
"See you next week."
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