It was mid-August, and the UK was in the middle of a heatwave. The country had been baked by unusually hot temperatures for the last three days, and Carole was sick of it. She stood in her dressing gown by the washing machine waiting for the cycle to end so she could hang the clothes out.
Gazing from her kitchen window at the yellow overgrown lawn and wilting plants. She wasn't green-fingered at all so the garden was a mess, just another thing to add to the list.
She was in a rut, and, even worse, Carole didn't even know it. Her life had become not her own over the years. She became a wife, then a mother and as one year followed another she thought less and less of herself as an individual and stopped thinking about how people would see her. Almost as if SHE didn't exist, she was just them, the family.
She was an attractive woman in her mid-forties but was oblivious to any attention she may have gotten. She didn't even register on her own radar, so why would she think anyone else's picked her up? She stared out the window lost in thought, not really seeing the wild overgrown bushes around her garden that hung limp and still in the hot stagnant air.
Not even nine in the morning, yet, and she could already feel a trickle of sweat running down the middle of her back as she stood waiting for the machine to finish. It was going to be another hot sticky day. Carole reached back and stopped the sweat droplet's ticklish journey with her robe before it reached her butt crack.
She wasn't surprised when her husband left her; he had become more and more distant in the last years of their marriage. They had tried to rekindle the fire with weekends away, or rather she had. But, in the end, they just highlighted how bad things had become. He just wasn't interested in her anymore, and who would be? A boring little suburban mother of two who worked in a supermarket and never went out.
She didn't have many friends in the area and had seen fewer and fewer of her more distant old friends as the years passed by. She wondered what life would be for her now she was on her own. The kids were old enough to get on with their own lives, and it was about time they did. Carole felt something had to change, but was at a loss to figure out what.
The washing machine beeped, and, a few minutes later, Carole had hung out the clothes and was heading upstairs for a shower, it had been another hot uncomfortable night and she hadn't slept well at all.
The shower was cool and refreshing, so she stayed in there for a long time after having washed herself. Watching herself in the mirror on the opposite wall of the small bathroom as the cool water ran over her body, she saw only that she was a little on the short side, with a fat bottom, a pot belly, and saggy boobs. But in truth, she had beautiful smooth pale skin, shapely legs, a wonderfully curvaceous and proportioned hourglass figure, with a very spankable, round bottom, just a little pot belly, and large, soft 38DD boobs that, though a little further south than they were twenty years ago, were still very much an object of men's attention when she was out and about.
Not that Carole noticed, why would she, after all, who would notice her?
At last, she left the cool haven of the shower and rejoined the world of the uncomfortably hot. She dabbed herself dry in her room, but not too much, the wet skin helped cool her. No sign of the kids yet, they wouldn't surface until well after lunch, having been out or up gaming all night. Carole rifled through her drawers looking for something to wear, too hot for jeans and she had just put her summer dresses on the line.
That old T-shirt will do for now, she thought, until the dresses were dry. She pulled the old white T-shirt from the drawer and slipped it on over her head. It was long and loose, the hem reached to her thighs and the wide neckline hung off one shoulder. She slipped her feet into a pair of little fluffy open-toed slippers and left the room.
The thin material of the old T-shirt clung to her damp skin, making its way into every crease as she went down the stairs, Carole didn't notice.
She went into the kitchen and put the next load of washing into the machine, she had almost finished when the doorbell rang. Quickly she set the program and started the machine washing, as the doorbell rang again, accompanied by three loud knocks. She trotted quickly back through the house to the front door and opened it.
Before her, crouching down on her secluded, leafy porch was the most magnificent example of a man she had ever seen, he literally took her breath away and she gasped audibly when she saw him. He was bending down to place a large brown cardboard envelope by the door.
When Carole appeared, he flexed the taught toned muscles in his strong thighs and rose back up to his full, well-over six-foot, height. He wore scruff,y tan safety boots with his socks gathered around the top, and his long muscular legs rippled as he moved. His rather small-looking cargo shorts were embroidered with a company logo as was the baseball cap shading his face.
His broad, muscular shoulders tapered down to a slim waist, while the slightly grubby gray vest he wore struggled to contain his chest and the damp patches on the front of it highlighted his six-pack. The young man's dark skin was almost gloss black thanks to the film of perspiration covering it and he looked down at Carole with a glint in his dark brown eyes and the expression of a starving man who has just stumbled upon a feast.
Carole had never experienced a look like that in her life and it left her utterly speechless, standing in awe of him in her open doorway.
"Hi," he said, his eyes, roaming up and down Carole's body, pausing momentarily, and quite obviously, on her damp cotton-clad breasts. "Umm, Mr. Hinde?" he asked, looking down at the package for a moment then back at Carole. She tried to speak, but she was suddenly very nervous and her mouth had gone dry, so she had to swallow a couple of times first.
"My son," she explained in a quiet timid voice. The young man held the package out to her and in a daze, she reached out and took it. Then he pulled what looked like a phone out of his pocket and started tapping on the screen.
"Sorry miss," he explained a moment later, "but I need to photograph it… ok?" He waited for a response, and, at last, Carole managed a little "ok," in reply. He held up the small device, pointing it at her. She pinched the package at the corners between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, holding it in front of her tummy like a clutch purse, feeling silly.
"Sorry, this thing's playing up, just a minute," he said and lowered the screen to tap on it again. Carole's eyes then drank in the young man's dark glistening body as he tapped the screen until he held the device up again. Embarrassed as he caught her gazing at his thighs, she dropped her eyes down to the package in her hands, only then realizing that the T-shirt was clinging to her damp body and her large, round breasts now wore a tight-fitting layer of the thin, translucent material, and her dark nipples were showing clearly through it.
She felt her face blush red with embarrassment as she looked back up at the delivery driver who had taken his photo and was staring at her, with that look again, as he slipped the screen back into his pocket.
Carole could feel his eyes on her, she may as well have been standing naked in front of him. She hadn't felt so turned on for many many years. A thrill ran through her body, almost like she had been given an electric shock, earthing with a strong irresistible tingle between her legs. She could feel her sensitive skin moving against the clingy T-shirt as her nipples hardened uncontrollably and she watched in horror as the young man never took his eyes off them.
This made the tingle worse and her knees grew weak. The two of them stood and watched each other for a long uncomfortable moment. Nothing was said, but their hearts raced and their passions, grew as the birds sang and bees buzzed around them in the quiet shaded suburban front garden.
Carole was screaming at herself to shut the door, but her body had other ideas. She willed herself to move, but instead of going back inside she just leaned forward slightly, thrusting her large breasts out at the stranger, they bounced slightly as she moved.
Their motion seemed to seal her fate and the young delivery driver glanced around, now wearing a very serious expression on his face, making sure they were not being watched. Then he stepped closer, his large frame filling the small entrance porch, and he reached out his right hand, turning it palm up he placed it carefully under Carole's left breast and took hold, lifting it and gently squeezing it in his big dark hand.
"It's ok?" he asked, cautiously, as he stood on the doorstep fondling a total stranger's breast. Carole stared down at his hand, watching as the stranger's strong fingers gently lifted, caressed, and squeezed her soft round flesh. She couldn't move, she just stood with the package in her hand and watched.
"Yes," she whispered breathlessly after trying to speak for some time. His thumb lifted slightly and began rubbing the firm mound of her hard sensitive nipple and Carole whimpered softly, her legs wobbled, her hands fell weak at her sides and her pussy throbbed slowly like a second heartbeat. The young, black man continued to caress her, moving a little closer.
"Are you sure?" he asked again, taking hold of her left breast with his other hand. He squeezed and pulled gently on her breasts, watching intently as they moved in his hands, then he pinched her nipples between his thumb and forefingers, twisting and pulling on them harder than before.
Carole looked up at him, opened her mouth, and moaned softly, her hips squirming ever so slightly as the stranger's firm grip on her breasts triggered an instant reaction in her pussy. Suddenly, he pulled his hands away, leaving Carole panting and trembling on her doorstep, he looked up and down the quiet street again, but there was no one around at all.
"Can I come in?" he asked in a deep quiet voice as he moved close again.
Carole wanted more than anything to say yes, to take this young stallion by the hand and lead him up to her bed. But instead, all she could do was mumble, "The kids."
"Right," the stranger acknowledged, clearly disappointed, then he grabbed one of her large soft tits again, squeezing it, harder more confidently this time. It hurt a little but as the young man grabbed her Carole felt an overwhelming thrill at being manhandled by this stranger. She whimpered softly, her head spinning, her body refusing to let her mind think about what the fuck she was doing. It had been so long, and he was such a beautiful young man.
He took hold of her other breast as well, lifting them both together, fascinated with their weight, watching closely as they deformed in his strong grip. He wrapped a large hand around each breast, lifting them with his palms as his thumb and forefinger found the dark stiff nipples again, pinching, twisting, and rolling them. Carole squirmed, her hips making little circles as the man's fingers teased her.
