Jack was checking the hens at the bottom of the overgrown back yard in an isolated suburb of Perth. The bushes and trees here were quite thick and it was difficult to know where the creatures laid, so he stood in the early dappled sunlight under a tree and looked around. No clucking, no sound at all, except.... What was that? The sound of grunting, of rhythmic moaning. He moved to the side fence, an aged wooden paling affair, and carefully peered over it. There, lying on a patch of grass in among the bushes of his neighbour's block was the woman's twenty something daughter, Raylene. He had always thought her a lumpish, clumsy, half-grown girl, but now he was struck by what a ripe, woman's body she had.
She was quite naked, and was lying on her back, gently fondling one of her big conical breasts with one hand as she worked her fingers in and out of her very wet, very engorged vagina. Her eyes were closed her full lips open, and was slowly salivating as she grunted in time to her poking, with a uh, uh, uh that was quite exciting. Her belly was flat, firm, and broad and her hips were very heavy. Her pubic hairs were dark, like her long, glossy black hair which lay in disarray on the grass, framing her head. Suddenly she sped up, bucked her hips up into the air, raising herself on heels and shoulders and gave a long, low cry. Then she collapsed and lay there, breathing heavily. Jack hurried away from the fence.
Raylene was the daughter of the middle aged woman next door and had never really grown up. Was in fact a little simple. She was a permanent fixture of their little street and Jack had never given her a thought before, at least, not the way he was thinking of her now. He tried to ignore his lengthened tool, but it kept rubbing against his jeans, and he knew he had to do something about it. But what? He began to distract himself with the huge pile of washing up that cluttered his sink and as he looked out the window he saw Raylene swaying aimlessly down by the side of her house. Suddenly he had an idea.
When he leaned over the fence and spoke to her, she looked at him in that bland, disinterested way she had and he wondered if he had really seen that full woman's body down the back there. She was wearing an old baggy tee shirt and an over-large cotton skirt of her mother's. Her legs were bare and her feet wore thongs. Not really very exciting.
"Hey Ray!" he said. "Want to come in and help me with the washing up? I'll make you a cuppa and a biscuit if you do." She looked at him, as though working out what he had said, then her heavy face broke into a smile and she nodded.
"OK, Mister Jack." She trotted round to the front door and he let her in. He collected plates and cutlery from various parts of the house where he had left them, for he was single now, and stacked them next to Raylene. She was busy filling the sink, pouring in the detergent, washing the dishes with a great clatter and a lot of splashing.
Jack sat back at the kitchen table and watched her. As she worked, he could see the big buttocks moving under the thin cotton of the skirt. He remembered her shortly before in the back yard and now he knew he had to do something, anything.
He stood and came behind her.
"Here," he said softly. "Try not to splash so much Ray." She stopped and held her hands in the water as he came up to her, reached round and held her arms. "Like this," he said, breathing into her neck, smelling the fresh soap and warm skin. He was now pressing against those big buttocks and his tool was rapidly hardening against her warm flesh. Under his guidance, Raylene was now moving the dish cloth with less vigour, and the water was staying in the sink.
Raylene stopped again.
"You OK Mr Jack?" she asked in a funny tone of voice. Jack, alarmed, moved back. She turned and he saw that the front of her skirt was quite soaked. It was obvious that she was not wearing any bra, for her nipples were clearly visible.
"You're all wet!" he said with a smile. I'll have to lend you something to change into."
Raylene ignored his fatuous comment.
"You OK, Mr. Jack?" she repeated. "You want me to fix you up?"
"Fix me up?" he said, not daring to think what she meant.
She explained. Every now and then Mr. Andrew would come round to visit her mum. He was a middle aged fellow, stocky, cropped grey hair. Unemployed but did odd jobs round the place. And he would fix her mum up. Jack looked at the girl, waiting.
"Oh you know!" she said with an impatient giggle. "They go inna bedroom and mum takes down his pants and sucks on his, you know, his thing, and when it is all stiff, she takes her clothes off and lies on the bed and he lies on top of her and sticks his thing in her hole. She likes that, and she moans a lot and he moans and then they stop and he gets up and there's all this white stuff coming out the end of his thing and out of her hole." She stopped with an air of satisfaction then looked uncertainly at the man. Maybe he still didn't understand. She explained that the ventilation grate was missing between her room and her mum's and if she stood on a chair she could see what they were doing.
"But sometimes Mum's not home when he comes round, so I fix him up," she said proudly. She gave a little shudder of pleasure and the memory. It was clear she took some kind of professional satisfaction in being able to act like a grown-up in this way.
"I like the taste of his stuff too," she added.
Jack nodded slowly, his pulse pounding as he realised what she was proposing.
"That would be good, Ray. You fix me up then."
He moved up to her and ran his fingers over a nipple till it became quite stiff. Raylene looked at him as he did so, and when he stopped, she took his hand and put it on the other nipple. She said nothing as he worked it erect too, then she moved back and pulled off her tee shirt and dropped it on the floor. Her big tits poked out, the nipples like little fingers, proud tokens of her womanhood, of her readiness.
She knelt and undid his belt, his zip, and pulled everything down, all in complete silence, then she stood up and waited, still quite blank faced. Jack's tool bobbed in the air between them, like a question mark.
He pulled off his shirt with shaking hands, kicked off his sandals and stood naked before her. She did nothing, so he walked up and pulled out the elastic top of her skirt, and slid his hand down the front of her belly. Past her curly pubic hair, he found the wet slit and pushed a finger in. She grunted, and held onto him, her head on his shoulder, her hot breath on his neck. He turned his head an nibbled her ear lobe.
"Ohh," she moaned, and held him tighter. Then she was all business. She lay back on the floor, ignoring the pools of washing up water on the cold lino, and spread her big thighs. And waited. He knelt and guided his tip between those slippery, wanting flaps, pushed in. He now put both hands on the floor on either side of the girl and, supported on his toes, he began to nudge further and further into her tight little cunt. Finally he was all the way in and he began to slowly move in and out.
She closed her eyes and soon she was making those little uh uh uh noises he had heard in the garden. Her mouth was open and drooling. Now she began to arch her hips up at him to meet his thrusts and then she was panting heavily and gave a great moan, arched her back and came to a shuddering climax. Jack spent in her himself, pumping stream after stream of white spunk into her woman's body.
When they had finished they had a shower together, which Raylene found quite exciting, and though Jack was again getting hard, she decided she should go home before her mum arrived back from the shopping.
The next day she knocked on his door in the middle of the morning. When he let her in, she explained that Mr. Andrew had come round to visit her mum. The event seemed to have excited her, for she was breathing a little heavily and flushed in the fact. Jack saw that she was only wearing her dressing gown and that her feet were bare. She said nothing, but undid the cord of her gown and opened it wide, exposing her full and naked body.
Jack quickly led her by the hand into the bedroom, where they undressed, all serious, and where he tupped her again.
Jack enjoyed Raylene for many months, and then he had a job that took him away from town for a year. When he came back he found to his sorrow that Raylene's mum had passed away, and to his annoyance that Mr. Andrew had moved in, "To look after her," as he put it. It became obvious too, that a few of Mr. Andrew's mates were also looking after Raylene, or rather, that she was fixing them all up, often very loudly and far into the night.
After a while Jack got used to it all, and accepted that in some mysterious way, Ray had grown up. Besides, she sometimes came round to see him or rather, to enjoy him, and he did not complain, for she had become a skilled and exciting lover and a full, ripe woman.
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