Incest/Taboo Watch Me

Authors note: Now that enough years have passed, I can safely and affectionately share this story. For purposes and requirements, all characters in the story are over the age of 18. I have made every attempt to recollect this story as accurately as possible, preferring to leave out anything I am not sure of as opposed to including it just for the sake of trying to write an erotic story. I hope you enjoy it. Obviously, the names have likewise been changed to protect identities.
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We called her Mrs. Blake, or at least I did anyway. She was also known as the quiet lady, primarily because she was a bit of a recluse. I knew very little about her, and most of that coming from my parents when I had actually been required to apply for the privilege of mowing and trimming her yard. And don't laugh, every year she reviewed potential candidates for the spring-summer-fall long job of doing that. So it was, just because you mowed her yard one year, didn't mean you'd get to do so again the next year. I am sure that the fact she paid extremely well, well above the normal, is why my friends and I, amongst others, actually went through the yearly routine. Age didn't really matter, if you could do the job, and do it correctly according to her standards; she was willing to pay for it.

I knew only that her husband had been killed many years before. Though I never learned how that had come about. I also knew she didn't have any children, and after the death of her husband, never wanted any...and never remarried either. And I honestly found that sad as she was a very attractive woman, at the time...somewhere in her early to mid fifties back then. I remember she had just a touch of grey to her dark auburn hair and made no attempt to color it, content to let it turn naturally. She wore it in a small ponytail most of the time, and I rarely recall seeing her wear her hair in any other style. I also remember we were pretty close to the same height, and though I eventually grew another inch or so, at the time I'd guess she was about five foot seven or so. Mrs. Blake (though in time I would come to know her as Helen) was what I guess you would call a medium built woman. Far from slim, and equally far from being over weight, though an obvious telltale bit of extra in her frame, depending on whatever clothes she was wearing at the time. I'll save the description for the more intimate and personal stuff later.

This was actually my second year mowing and trimming for her, though there had been a year in between that, when someone else actually did it besides me. I often wondered if she did that on purpose to keep any one person from thinking they had the job locked up. Though I seriously believe, I did a better job of it than anyone else did. It even got to the point that I went out of my way (and time) to go the extra bit, which I now know, she appreciated very much.

It was well into the late spring, early summer when things took a really interesting turn, and in many ways, had a significant impact on my life.

I had as usual gone over early to begin mowing long before it would get very hot. Already the skies were promising a bit of rain, so I was likewise in hopes of getting the yard mowed before the expected downpour came. I had barely gotten finished with the mowing when the rain came. Promising Mrs. Blake to return later in the day to finish up with the trimming because of it. She told me not to bother until it was totally dry, even if that meant coming back the following day. I soon after headed home, which was about three or four blocks away by bike, and no more than a good ten or fifteen minute distance between us. Although the rain was already starting to let up some by the time I arrived home, it promised to be a daylong drizzle at the very least, accompanied by some fairly serious thunder and lightening. I had actually changed into dry clothes when it hit me. I had left out the trimmer in the rain, forgetting to put it away before I left. Something like that was apt to blackball me if I hadn't been already, from returning again the next year. Once more, I headed back to her place as fast as I could in the hopes that perhaps she wouldn't have noticed that yet. I could even safely park my bike on the side of the garage, and then enter in that way (as the door was always unlocked) and then grab the trimmer which I'd left leaning against the work shed, put it away inside, and hopefully leave without ever being found out.

Everything went according to plan until I walked around the backside of the garage and the attached work shed. I froze in place, disbelief of what I was currently looking at, turning me into stone. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

There was a small L-shaped porch that ran along the backside of the house. The awning was just enough to protect from most of the rain, which is why I guess I had made a major mistake in coming back when I did. Mrs. Blake was sitting in one of her lawn chairs watching the storm, in particular the sound of thunder and lightning (as she'd explain later to me) which was something she had always been fascinated with. The problem was...she was entirely naked, sitting there while doing so. And maybe that would have been bad enough, actually walking around the corner not expecting to find her sitting there like that, but it just so happened, that she had her legs propped up in the chair, spread pretty widely, and one hand busy between her legs, the other at the moment cupping one of her rather full pendulous looking breasts.

Like I said. Our eyes locked for a brief second as my mind tried to retake control over my body and signal me to flee. And I would have done so, had she not called out to me when she did.

"Jason? Come here," she said firmly, though I don't recall there being an edge of anger in her tone of voice. Surprise, maybe even a little embarrassment perhaps, but she certainly wasn't angry with me. To my own surprise, I cross the few steps, now entering the protection of the awning, though I still stood several feet away, unsure of what to do next, let alone expect. "Closer," I remember her saying, and then indicating for me to stand right in front of her chair. I did as she asked until I was actually standing there no more than a foot or so away from her, looking at her, unable not to, as the internal struggle of having to face her in the eye, was actually worse than keeping my eyes lowered, though I was looking at this totally nude woman while doing that. And it was at that very moment that I realized...she hadn't removed her hand from between her legs!

And as I realized that, I also realized, she was still finger-fucking herself, slowly perhaps, and maybe trying to be a bit imperceptible while doing so? But the reality was, she was doing that...still teasing herself as I only then looked up into her eyes again, now tilting the other way in my confusion as to knowing just exactly where in hell I should be looking at this point. Once again, our eyes locked, but this time I also saw her mouth move. I heard no words, for if she spoke any, they were far too quiet for me to have done so. But the shape of her words as she spoke them, were beyond question.

"Watch me."

The way I saw it, I didn't really have any other choice. Sure...I could have turned and ran, left anyway. But I also figured that I'd be fucked for the rest of the summer as far as the job went. And besides, it wasn't her fault that I had come back and found her masturbating in the privacy of her own backyard, that one was definitely on me. And the only thing she had said was that. Nothing else. Nothing about me doing anything, or doing anything to her. Just, "Watch me," so the way I saw it...I had nothing to lose, and everything in the world to gain.

And so I stood, watching her. Saying nothing, doing nothing. Just watching. And I was more turned on than I had ever been in my entire life. When Mrs. Blake realized I was actually going to stay, she smiled. It was one of the very rare times I had ever seen her do so. And then after that, she proceeded to pleasure herself quite openly, quite uninhibitedly sitting there right in front of me as I watched her. And though times perhaps have changed since then as styles and preferences seem to do, I recall that she didn't really have a thick hairy bush. In fact, what I recall and even now see just as clearly as then, was this very fine layer of pubic hair, that was actually more straight than curly perhaps.

It was also a light brown, and looked almost as though it had been combed that way, both sides meeting towards the middle, where her finger lay. Still pressing against herself, occasionally dipping inside before reemerging again. I also remember the color of her inner lips, for they appeared almost red inside as opposed to the outer, more pinkish flesh of her labia. And though actually watching her finger-fucking herself was erotic enough, I was then (and have always been) a bonafide card-carrying breast man. All shapes, all sizes...mattered not. So here to I was being treated to another stimulating pleasure as well. With one hand still between her legs, the other she used to caress and tease her own breast and nipple with.

Mrs. Blake had what I can only say were fairly heavy looking, somewhat pendulous breasts. I mean they weren't exactly saggy or anything, just heavy and fell a bit more down her chest perhaps. I honestly thought they were beautiful, and provided me many evenings of pleasure after that just when thinking about them. But I digress here. I remember too that her nipples were fairly large, some call them "pancake" nipples for lack of a better description. They were a light tan, not quite pink, and colored enough to clearly define the area as they sat on the tip of her breasts. She had amazing nipples too as I remember. Fairly thick, and I actually remember comparing them in size to "Dots" though even bigger than that, and certainly longer too. Mrs. Blake could scissor her nipple between two fingers, and you'd still see a goodly portion of it poking up and through whenever she did that.

So, watching her doing both, playing with her breasts, caressing them, tugging and eventually pulling hard on her nipples...more so when she actually came, in conjunction with the sound of her fingers now sliding in and out of her very wet cunt, not to mention the vision of her while doing so, was almost more than I could emotionally stand. And stand I still did. Like a statue with hard-on.

When it was over, she asked me to sit at the patio table, which I did. She stood up, now slipping on a bathrobe, which she'd, had sitting nearby, and simply informed me she was going inside to get us something to drink while we talked.

She'd made it clear, and very obvious I wasn't going anywhere until we had. Though I also had no intention of going anywhere either, especially not after what had just happened. Maybe I was more curious now than anything else, (though I was still horny as hell too) but I remained sitting there until she came out again. She placed a poured Coke in front of me, as well as one for herself. And though I knew she smoked, I'd never seen her actually doing so. In addition to our drinks, she had also brought her smokes along with an ashtray outside. She lit one, drawing the smoke in, looking at me, and then blowing it out as she actually spoke.

"Obviously, it was NOT my intent for you to see me doing that. However, you did. And we will discuss that at greater length momentarily, but I want you to listen to what else I have to tell you before doing that." She drew in another lung full of smoke, and I took a large sip of my Coke, still waiting on her.

She confirmed then the story I'd already heard from my parents about the loss of her husband, and her reasoning for never getting married again. It was a time when some women, for whatever reason, just never did so if someone they truly loved, actually died. And according to what Mrs. Blake told me, that was the main reason, and also why she'd never had any children either. Since her husband's death, she had in fact not had sex, or rather intercourse, with any other man. She went on to explain to me, that it didn't make her some sort of a Spinster or anything even close to that. (I actually had to look that one up back then to see what she meant by that). But she went on to explain that almost the reverse was true. Maybe she wasn't physically having sexual relations with anyone, but it hadn't kept her from thinking about it, nor from masturbating, which she actually shared with me, she did very often. Needless to say, I had walked in on her while doing so. And the reason behind that had been, because thunder and lightning storms always aroused her, for some odd reason.

To this day...every time I hear the peel of thunder or see lightning, I think of her name.

And that was when she told me to call her Helen. Though she also told me a few other things as well. For one, she said that if I ever said anything to anyone about what I had seen her doing, then I would of course be out of a job for starters...permanently. And secondly, if I had any desire to see her do so again, then I'd also have to promise not to say anything to anyone about her doing that either. She also informed me, there would be no expectations about anything else. (Though as I would later learn, that was sort of open to interpretation as it turned out.) She soon after sent me home again to think about it, and return the following day with an answer as to what my decision was. Though not before putting the trimmer back in the work-shed again before I left. Which I did.

And of course, I already knew what my answer was going to be before I even arrived back home again. Anxious to return the following day, now more so, than ever.

I was a little surprised to find the trimmer leaning against the garage again, waiting for me. Along with a small note which she'd taped to the handle. Saying simply, "Come inside when you're done here."

At least trimming was the easier part, and it took me less than an hour to finish up. I put the trimmer back into the shed again, and then as she asked, stepped up to the back door porch way, knocking of course before letting myself in. Doing that wasn't new, pretty much standard routine whenever I'd been invited inside before, usually to get a drink or in using the restroom. And usually too, she met me coming just then into the kitchen area, but not today. I called out. "Mrs. Blake?" And then amended that, taking a chance, and then saying "Helen?" Instead. I'm pretty sure she heard me the first time, though only when I'd used the name Helen did I hear the sound of her voice calling me from somewhere ahead. Her home was just one level, though spacious enough, with at least two or more bedrooms down a rather long hallway leading off the main living room. I heard her voice calling out to me from there.

"Down the hall Jason, turn right at the end of the hallway." I passed by the bathroom I had actually been in before, so I was deeper now into her home than I had ever been before. And though I am sure the hallway wasn't nearly as long as I sort of see it and imagine it now, I know it felt like it. Though I am sure it was only seconds before actually reaching it, turning...and then once again stopping dead in my tracks when I did.

Her bedroom door was wide open. And the way her bed sat inside the room, she was facing me. Facing me while laying on it, once again fully naked. This time she didn't need to beckon me to come forward, I just sort of automatically did so, though stopping short just inside the door as I entered the room. She already had one hand working her pussy, and as she (I think) had guessed, the other already playing with and manipulating her tit.

"You can sit down this time, if you want to Jason," she indicated, now pointing towards one of two matching chairs she had in her bedroom. I took the closest one to me of course, though in truth, the other would have provided a better angle perhaps had I taken it instead.

"So, tell me Jason...truthfully. What did you do when you arrived home yesterday after leaving here?"

Was she actually asking me if I'd jerked off? Which of course I had done, though not until much later after everyone had gone to bed.

"Well, I first picked up and cleaned my room..." I began, receiving then a look from her upon saying that.

"You know what I mean Jason." And of course I did. "Did you...play with yourself?" She pressed, her fingers suddenly worming around a bit more than they had been, along with the fingers now pinching and pulling on one of those amazingly hard nipples of hers.

"Yes. Yes I did," I managed to confirm, swallowing a bit, and once more feeling the erection inside my pants growing again. There was no way from stopping it, but apparently, she hadn't meant for me to.

"And what did you think about while you were touching yourself?" She asked again, her tone of voice suddenly a bit softer, a bit husky perhaps as her level of arousal climbed.

"About you," I offered, though again receiving another 'look' from her. And as I did, seeing both of her hands stopping, moving away as she actually sat up.

"I figured that much," she said with totally different tone of voice. "Maybe I need to be a little clearer here," she told me. "If you want to see more of what you saw yesterday, then you need to be as candid with me vocally, as I'm being with you visually. So when I ask you what you were thinking about, I'm talking specifics here. I want you to tell me what you were imagining while you were jacking off. There...that a little clearer for you?"

I don't know if I merely nodded my head, or actually said yes, but she lay back in the bed once again, this time bending her legs at the knee, spreading herself even more obscenely than I'd seen the day before.

"I was thinking about your tits, and what I'd like to be doing to them," I began.

"Go on," she moaned. "Tell me more...specifically."

"How I wish I could suck them, and pull on them with my fingers the way you were doing."

"You mean like this?" She asked, now using both hands to pull on her nipples with simultaneously. "So you liked that huh? You like watching the way I play with my nipples then."

"Yes...yes I do," I confirmed, once again swallowing, feeling the almost painful press of my erection inside my pants.

"And what about my pussy? Did you think about that?"

I knew a one word answer wasn't what she was looking for. And I think I scored a few points with her when I answered.

"I thought about what it might feel like to put my own fingers there. What it might feel like, sensing your juices, hearing the sounds I would make as I fingered you."

"Just fingered? Or finger-fucked me?" She asked, her raspy tone of voice once more alerting me that she was really getting off on this.

Sure, I'd used the word Fuck around my friends a few times before, but never in front of an actual adult person. So saying it now, felt weirdly odd, yet exciting at the same time.

"Finger fucking you."

"My cunt?"

"Yes, your cunt." And to be honest here, that is a word I think I had thought, but had never actually said out loud before, until now anyway. And once again, it seemed wonderfully nasty and wicked...and dirty all at once. It was a delicious feeling.

"And what else would you like to do to my cunt?" She asked. "What else did you think about doing to it?"

"Licking it. That's what I thought about," I told her honestly. "Yesterday, watching you in the chair, I thought about...imagined actually dropping down onto my knees, and then licking you."

That one surprised her. I could see it by the look of her eyes. "So you didn't actually think about fucking me?"

"Last night? No. I didn't. I thought about sucking your tits, even rubbing the head of my cock against your nipples, but then after that...licking you."

"So did you cum?" Though she didn't wait for an answer, assuming that was redundant anyway. "And what then were you imaging when you finally did cum?" She finished, though her fingers were all but flying now in and out of her pussy as she asked me that. I could already hear the wet-slick sounds of her cunt as she brought herself closer and closer to orgasm. Once again, one hand back towards her breast, holding and squeezing it, not yet venturing towards the nipple. I knew she was saving that as the final trigger perhaps when she came.

"I was imaging your hand on my cock, jacking me off...making me cum," I told her, which is exactly what I had been thinking when I did.

I watched her hand move over, capturing her nipple, pulling on it hard.

Damn she was loud when she came. I guess she was more so because we were inside perhaps as opposed to the day before. But even then, it sort of startled me just the same.

But it was fun hearing it too.

"Next Saturday right?" She asked once again dressed, walking me to the door. "And be prepared to tell me about every time you actually jerked off, and what you thought about when you did," she instructed, and then adding. "If I like that, maybe there will be an additional little bonus for you," she actually winked at me.

Bonus hell. I didn't really need or want any more money. But I was already planning on jerking off almost every day anyway. After all, I had tons of material to fantasize about.

I finished up the mowing, and the trimming in short order, though ensuring I did just as good a job as I always had. And to my surprise, just as I finished putting everything away, walking over towards the patio area, she came walking out. She had drinks in hand for us, and she was naked while carrying them. I only then noticed, she had repositioned the chairs so that they faced one another. Once again, she lit up a smoke, though blowing it away from me as she exhaled. Once more looking at me. Only then did I see that she had placed this long white slim object on the table next to her, only then picking it up. It looked to me like something you would pack a toothbrush in or something, though obviously it wasn't. Especially when she turned it on, twisting the end cap. I could hear this soft little buzzing sound when she did that.

"You know what this is?" She asked. I had no idea, and told her so. She seemed to enjoy knowing that. "It's called a vibrator," she explained, and then actually offered it to me to hold for a moment. And though I was hesitant at first, I took it from her feeling the odd tingle of vibration in my hand.

"Interesting," I said still a little unsure of it's use here. She smiled at that.

"Oh it's more than just interesting," she told me. "Here, I'll show you what I like doing with it. It's part of your bonus," she stated.

Odd how just holding onto something, that eventually ended up inside her pussy could be enough to actually fantasize about later. But I did. And that wasn't even the very best part either.

I sat there watching her use the toy on herself, something a bit more like a prick than just her fingers perhaps. But it had one more additional benefit too. Occasionally she'd just leave it inside there, while she could, trying to hold it before it quite naturally slipped out. But when she did this, she used both hands on her tits again, really playing with them, that soon had me throbbing like crazy.

"And what do you think of my new toy?" She asked.

I told her I liked it, and that it looked "Nasty" as I recall. She seemed to like that response, and then asked me about my week. Once again, I knew exactly what she meant by that. And it would be safe to say that I had at least half a dozen jerk-off sessions to tell her about. And thus I began, one by one...telling her in about as explicit detail as possible as to what I had done, and what I was thinking about when I did, including one session in the shower where I let the water do all the work on me. She once again seemed surprised, but very pleased by that as I shared it with her.

And as I'd hoped, she was actually loud again when she came, even outside this time. And I also think she seemed to bounce around a bit more than I'd seen her do before, even shaking and shivering this time for quite a while afterwards. After she had finally calmed down and collected herself, she lit up another smoke, once more looking at me. I was expecting the usual, "See you next week," thing when she spoke.

"Would you like to know what the rest of your bonus might be?" She asked. Naturally I shook my head yes, not knowing what to expect as I did.

"I haven't been exactly fair now have I?" She began, though I sat tight, waiting to hear where the rest of this was going, so not really answering, which wasn't necessary anyway as she continued. "If you'd like...you can jerk off now while looking at me," she offered.

Ok, now I know this is going to sound crazy, but it's the God's honest truth. Its one thing to 'get to' actually sit (or stand) there watching someone masturbate, especially someone like Helen. But to do it in front of her, was something else altogether. And funny enough, even actually thinking about doing just that as part of fantasy, still wasn't the real thing, like this would be. I wasn't even sure I could do it. As much as I wanted to.

"Just remember one thing Jason. We can't touch one another. That would be taking things a bit too far I think. You watching me, and me watching you is one thing...but it will never be anything more than that. So, like I said...if you'd like to. If you want to...I'd really enjoy seeing that."

"You...you would?"

"Oh yes. Hell yes," she actually leered at me. "I have fantasies too Jason, one of which, is imagining what your cock looks like. So, how about you show me?"

And then suddenly, it sounded like the best fucking idea in the whole world.

I didn't dare get naked, though it was close enough. She even made me stand up when I dropped my pants, even before removing my underwear. My "boner" damn near slapping against my belly as I pulled my shorts away from it, likewise pushing them down to now join my jeans, which were currently around my ankles.

"Turn to the side," she told me. I knew she was now looking at me in profile. I heard her sigh without turning to look, a bit shy at the moment perhaps, knowing full well she was now staring openly at my hard cock, hoping she would like it.

"Nice prick Jason," she confirmed, giving me a little comforting relief. At least it wasn't disappointing to her, though I had no real idea whether it would or wouldn't either way. "You're really hard aren't you?" She asked.

"Oh yeah, very hard. But sometimes, I even get a bit harder than this," I shared with her. "When I'm that hard...it sort of gets a bit more purple in color," I explained.

"Then make it purple for me," she actually giggled. "Sit down Jason, and make it purple for me."

I sat down with my jeans and underwear still down around my ankles. But I could have cared less as to the way I looked. Helen too began touching her self for me again, though this time without the use of her vibrator, which I actually kind of preferred. It seemed a bit more intimate and personal this way. I loved watching her fingers going in and out, though she added another treat to all of this when she took them out in order to lick them off. "That help making you get purple-hard?" She asked.

"Oh yeah. Fuck yeah!" I answered back, seeing the joy in her eyes upon hearing that. I was stroking my cock for real now too. Not just playing with it, not really. Fisting it almost wildly, until she caught me off guard.

"Whoa there honey. Not so fast, this isn't a race here. I want to see you play with it yes, jack it, wank it...whatever you want to call it. And eventually I want to see you cum too...but let's enjoy this until then, so let's just slow down, watch one another, and enjoy ourselves, how's that sound?"

I did as she asked, and enjoyed it. For a far lot longer than I usually did I must confess. But it was again fun, nasty...and forcing myself to delay the inevitable was certainly worth the end result when it happened. For both of us as it turned out.

This time, she was in full control of herself though. I don't know how she managed it, or did it...but she somehow held off cumming again until I did.

"You're very, very hard. And very, very purple now," she told me, unnecessarily I might add. "Do you squirt a lot when you cum?" She now asked, sort of taking me off guard for a moment. "The reason I ask Jason, is because it's been a very long time since I've actually seen a man do that, and admittedly I miss seeing that," she confessed. "I am really looking forward to seeing you cum."

And that's...about the time I started to. Just hearing her say that. And though I know for a fact I was no-where's near as loud as she was when I came, it was loud enough...and she sort of enjoyed hearing that too as she joined me, urging me on.

"Oh yes, yes Jason, yes! Squirt baby, squirt! Milk it out for me honey. Milk it all out, keep jacking it until there isn't any more."

That goes without saying. Especially under the circumstances. But I also have to give her credit too. That was without a doubt one of the most intense orgasms I'd ever experienced, not to mention perhaps the messiest as well. Though she really seemed to like that. Even when I realized I had shot several ropes of semen which had splashed upon the cement patio, offering to go get something to clean it up with, she laughed.

"Leave it. I'll get it later. I want to be able to look at it and remember it for a while," she grinned.

I know that many will probably find this a bit weird or strange too perhaps. And maybe at first, even I did. But the thing was. She never did scrub those spots away. If anything, we even added to them. A lot.

And so it went, week after week...our private little "watch me" sessions as we did that, watching one another, never touching. And I won't deny the fact that I'd wanted to, perhaps even made an attempt or two at doing that, only once being allowed to even kiss her breast, and no where near close to her nipple either. And if I pressed, Helen was quick to back me away, the simple threat of "ending" our deal if I persisted, usually more than enough to keep me at bay.

And then...as things usually do. Our time together would soon be at an end. I hadn't told her, almost afraid to. But I think somehow she knew anyway, even before I did tell her. I'd enlisted in the Navy, and would soon be heading off to boot camp, and then to God knows where after that. And the timing couldn't have been any more perfect either as the season for mowing the lawn would soon be at an end too. I'd gone over, for basically my last lawn mowing...though that never happened. She met me, standing in the doorway of her front door as I came walking up. Something she had never done before. She opened her door, stepping out just a bit, and then looking quickly right, and then left. Turning back towards me, she opened the robe she was wearing, revealing herself. Completely nude, which as it had always been...was a nice delight. I stepped up to the door, and then in as she held it for me. Passing by, or beginning to anyway when she just as suddenly stepped into my arms. The feel of her breasts for the first time pressed against me. And then kissing. I don't even remember how that happened, only that suddenly we were. And then her taking me by the hand, leading me down the hall towards her bedroom. She undressed me, completely. Once again something she had never done before. And then she pressed me back into her bed. I'd never been on that before either. I can honestly recall I was a jumble of emotions at the time, I think we both were. Like I said, I think she already knew, just as I knew...this was apt to be the last time we'd ever be together.

When she actually slithered down the bed, I knew then we were going into uncharted waters here. And for the first time ever, feeling her hand as it wrapped itself around my cock was heavenly. And though I had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen next, I remember her looking up at me for just a second.

"We can't fuck. I'm sorry. But we can't." And then with that, my cock was suddenly inside her mouth.

For a woman that hadn't been with a man in years, she certainly knew how to suck a man's prick. And though I didn't exactly have a whole lot to compare that to at the time, I certainly did later. And I still feel, and think...it was amongst the best blow-jobs I'd ever been given. She didn't just suck it, bob her head up and down on it like I've seen done in a few movies, she made love to it. Tenderly at times, wickedly in others. But I know without any doubt whatsoever, she held me on the edge for so long that I didn't think it would ever be possible to come down from that. Even when I did. I think I even warned her half a dozen times that I was going to cum, when I finally did. That didn't seem to matter to her, as she kept sucking me until I was. Swallowing, draining me...in more ways than one. I know one thing for sure. I saw stars. A whole bunch of them, and I'm not kidding you either.

When she rolled over onto her back, I was half wondering if we were going to end this with me just watching her again. Not this time. "Come here Jason. Lick me. Like I said, you can't fuck me...but I'd love it if you'd lick me at least."

Boy howdy's. Did I do that. That had been for me as well, one of my long...ongoing fantasies about her. And maybe I wasn't an expert, (actually a novice if we're being honest here) but she seemed to love whatever I did, no matter what I did. And coaxing me when needed, what to do, and how to do it next. Lets just say, I learned a lot from her that I've put to good practice since then.

It did hurt just a little when she yanked on my hair as she came. But it was well worth it. And after we'd both had a chance to recover somewhat, we went at it again. This time mostly mutual masturbation, doing one another. But I loved fingering her pussy the way I'd seen her do. And I certainly loved the feel of her hand as she jacked me off. And maybe it wasn't a geyser of any sort when I came the second time, but it sure as hell felt damn fucking good.

I left soon after that without really saying anything. But like I said, I think she already knew. I didn't see her again for almost a year. Home on leave, and soon about to ship out to my new duty station, I wanted to at least drop by, see how she was doing. Maybe it was an odd day to pick...a Saturday. I came walking up the drive, heard more than saw the lawn mower out back. I walked around the side of the garage like I had done a hundred times before. I almost...(almost I said) wished she was naked as she'd been before sitting there, but more than pleased when she wasn't. Fully dressed, reading the paper keeping an eye on the kid currently mowing her lawn. She looked over the edge of the paper, smiling at me. Finally putting it down and then standing, coming over to embrace me, kissing me chastely on the cheek before offering a seat to me.

We spent the next little while catching up. Even long after the kid had put things away again, just as I'd done for so many years. There was no attempt, no hint of doing anything as we sat there. And even if I'd entertained the thought, or that she had...neither one of us was going to act on it. Our time together had long passed.

When it was time to go, I reluctantly stood, once more embracing her. "I would like to know one thing before I go if you wouldn't mind," I asked.

She had a curious look in her eyes at the question, but told me to go ahead and ask her anything. So I did.

"How come you told me I could never fuck you?" I asked. I saw a sadness in her eyes then as she momentarily turned away, and then looking me dead on in the face again.

"Because I promised Jim the day we got married, that I would never, ever...fuck another man again. And I never have. And it's the main reason I never really got involved with any other men either, because I knew that eventually in time, they would want to, and expect it. But I come from the belief that a promise is a promise. Right or wrong. So that's why being with you was so tender and so perfect, doing what we did. I guess technically, I got to bend the rules a little with you, all the while still keeping my word and my promise. So that's why Jason. That's why we never did, even though I wanted to," She paused then looking at me. "Do you hate me for that?" She asked, with genuine concern in her eyes.

"Of course not," I said. And though I didn't perhaps understand the reasoning behind all this, I respected her for it. And told her so. We hugged, and even kissed once more, and then I walked away...never to see her again. I heard only that eventually she had moved to help care for a very ill sister. And then after that, lost any sort of contact with regards to her. I often wondered if any of the others who'd come after me had enjoyed what we'd shared together.

And then I remembered that day.

"Promise me that you'll never tell anyone about any of this, and I promise you, that I won't do this with anyone else either."

I promised her I wouldn't.

And then I realized, she'd made a promise to me as well. In a strange way, I really hoped that was a promise she'd never kept. But I had a feeling knowing her, that she did.

In time, after so many years in passing. I eventually did hear that Helen had passed away a few years back. I honestly hope she is truly happier now, and that she's been joined again with the love of her life.

Though I will say, I'm not one to make promises myself any more. They're too damn hard to keep.
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-The End-​