I arrived home from work at around the usual time, six thirty. The gardener’s pick up truck is parked on the driveway, meaning I had to park my Peugeot in the street. The noise coming from upstairs made it obvious that Rick our Aussie gardener was doing a spot of indoor gardening, planting his trowel in my mothers seed box!
I slammed the front door as I went in, sidestepped a pair of dungarees on the floor, kicked one of a pair of boots in the doorway and shut myself in the kitchen.
My mother is aged fifty one, but she tells everyone she is forty nine. I can’t deny that she is an attractive woman. She has naturally jet black hair. Mine is mousy. She has a voluptuous pair of breasts. I inherited mine from my father. She has a thin waist, thinner than mine. She has a tight butt, I haven’t. She is a nymphomaniac. I am not.
It was an hour later when Rick came into the kitchen. There is no doubt that he has a body that was created in heaven. He has muscles on bronzed muscles. He has blond curly hair that looks as if my mother has been winding her fingers through it. He also has the biggest penis I have ever seen although I haven’t seen many. My eyes drifted down to it as he stood before me, naked.
“Is that a cup of coffee? I could murder for a cup.” He reached out his hand.
“Could you cover up, please?” I asked, ignoring his hand.
“I am just collecting my clothes.” I winced as he brushed past me as he filled the kettle and switched it on.
Mother appeared in the doorway. Her normally smart hair was as well ruffled as Rick‘s. She wore a robe that she was holding shut, but not before revealing nothing underneath, giving me a quick glimpse of jet black pubic hair.
“Hi Rebecca. You are home early. You know Rick?” She looked pleased with herself.
“Hello Mother. I am home at the usual time. And could you ask …” I pointed at Rick.
“Could you ask Rick to put some clothes on?”
“I am sorry, dear. Does the naked form embarrass you?”
“The naked form has never embarrassed me, it’s just that I do not appreciate seeing a naked … thing, swinging in front of me in my own kitchen.”
Rick walked out of the kitchen. I heard him say something as he went that I could not decipher, but I did catch the word ’lesbian.’
“I am not a lesbian.” I shouted after him.
“He didn’t mean it, dear. I’ll have a word with him.”
“Honestly Mother, he must be only twenty five.”
“And you are …?”
“You are twenty five with no boyfriend.” She told me.
“I am waiting for the right man to come along, rather than throwing myself at every man who comes through the door, like you.”
She took a deep breath and picked up two coffee mugs.
“I am going for a shower.” She said.
A few days later I arrived home and Rick’s pick up was blocking the drive way, meaning I had to park in the road again. This time, mother’s car was not parked in front of the pick up. I expected Rick to be working in the garden, but I couldn’t see him. I went into the house and he was sitting in the dining room, with his feet on another chair, talking into our phone!
“Hang on a second Babe.” He said down the phone. He looked up at me. “It’s Becky, isn’t it.”
“Rebecca.” I corrected him.
“I’m on the phone.”
“Our phone. Have you my mother’s permission to make calls or has whoever it is rung you?”
“Your mother told me to make myself at home. This is what I am doing.”
“The cheek of it. I am going to speak to her when she gets home.”
He stood up and headed to the door, taking our phone with him. He went outside. I made a coffee. Five minutes later he had finished his call and was back in the kitchen.
“Did you make me a coffee?” He asked.
“Why should I make you a coffee?”
“To show that we are friends.”
“We are not friends. You are a nuisance that happens to have seduced my mother. I don‘t fall for your so called charm.”
“You don’t have to. You are a lesbian.”
“You what? How dare you!” I was staggered.
“I am sorry. You are a lesbian, aren’t you?”
“I am not a lesbian.”
“Prove you are not a lesbian.”
“You know, you are the most disgusting, obnoxious person I have ever met.”
“That’s a compliment coming from you.”
I shook my head. I was gob smacked.
“So, prove it.” He said.
“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”
“I think you are a lesbian.”
“I am not a lesbian.”
“How many men have you had?”
“None of your business.”
“I’m not telling you.”
“I am not a lesbian.”
“Let’s go to bed and you can prove it.”
“I am not going to bed with you. Not now. Not ever. I am going to tell mother you are not allowed in the house.”
“You are worse than a lesbian. You are a scared lesbian.”
“I am not scared of you.”
“Okay. Kiss me and prove it.”
I sighed. “If I kiss you will you drop this about me being a lesbian?”
“It will be our little secret.”
He stepped forward and placed his hands on my shoulders.
“I promise you are not scared, except you are nervous. I can feel it in your shoulders.”
It was true.
“Please kiss me and get it over with.”
He pulled me nearer. I watched his mouth close in on mine. I expected rank smelling breath. It tasted like fresh mint as his lips crushed mine. I remembered to kiss him back. His body was firm against mine. I had a feeling in my loins. His hands were on my back. Under my blouse. Under my bra strap. It pinged undone. His hands came around the front. He squeezed my nipples. I fought to undo his belt buckle. Undo his jeans. He lifted me onto the table. His hands were between my legs. He pulled my panties aside. I could feel him between my legs.
He pushed inside me. I had imagined a cock the size of his would be hard to take. I was wrong. I was so wet. I swallowed him up and dragged him in. I felt him deep inside me as his seed filled me. He gasped and hugged me close.
“Tell me I am not a lesbian.” I whispered in his ear.
“I think I might need more proof.”
“Yes, I think you might.”
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com
with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/straight-sex/rebecca-and-the-gardener.aspx">Rebecca and the Gardener</a>