My only reasoning was that he had pulled it down while I was turned away. I also noticed his tool was pointing straight up instead of off to the side. I was intrigued. What was he planning? I remained pretending to be on the phone and watching him as he started moving to the music. I looked up but he was fixated on the crowd. I turned around towards the dance floor and then looked around. No one was watching me that I could see. I turned back towards the pillar and ducked behind his jacket while talking into the phone as if someone were on it. I leaned against the rail and wrapped my hand around a picket again and pretended to chat. He was moving his hips from side to side getting closer and closer to my hand. It wasn’t long before he brushed his hardened tool against my hand and then again a little harder. I didn’t budge and soon he was practically grinding against the back of my hand. I waited for the right moment for him to sway again in my direction and I stuck my first two. I got an earfull that time, and she made me feel like an incompetent numbskull. Two weeks later I was finishing up the backyard mowing when Mrs. B. walked out in a flimsy houserobe, unbuttoned in front and blowing open in the summer breeze. All she wore underneath was a red bra and red panties. She handed me an ice cold Dr. Pepper bottle dripping condensation. She smiled, then turned and walked away. Her ass swayed back and forth until she re-entered the house. My eyes oggled her every step as my cock jumped to attention. I placed the cold bottle against my Levi cutoffs and imagined a hiss from the sizzling steam it produced. "Dang" was all I could muster. Unbeknownst to me she was inside the house giggling as she looked out at her dumbfounded lawn boy looking skyward with his eyes closed and a huge grin on his face, all the while holding the Dr. Pepper bottle to his groin. Mowing the entire lawn and trimming the many edges by hand took about seven hours. By the time I.
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