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From: s f <idyllic_thoughts@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 25 Oct 2002 18:32:43 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: {ASSM} Paying the lawnmower {Idyllic thoughts} (mF cons exhib mast 1st-oral)
Date: Sat, 26 Oct 2002 13:10:03 -0400
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Story copywrite by idyllic_thoughts@yahoo.com, 2002.
I didn't think I would ever publish this story of my first sexual
experience, but reading those of others on this forum have
encouraged me. At the time it was very embarassing and even
shameful, but over time I've grown comfortable with it, and even
wished it could be repeated. I would know what to do better and
would understand that it was all right....
********
I had my first orgasm when I was 13, in the summer of 1981.
Looking back I can't imagine how shameless and daring I was.
During the day sometimes I would walk into our backyard partly
naked and hump things, pressing my penis against a picnic table,
a tree (gently!), the side of the garage, whatever I could find.
I assumed or hoped that no one would be around to see me during
the middle of a weekday, but there really wasn't any cover, it
was quite foolish and stupid but also incredibly exciting.
Of course one day it had to end; I heard a noise and there was my
next door neighbor standing in the doorway to her backyard,
staring at me hard, appearing more stunned than anything else. I
dashed into the house, my cock bouncing in the air, caring more
about speed than concealment; I just couldn't stand to be seen
there for a second longer. I stood in the empty living room and
collected my thoughts. Was I doomed? Parents being told, kids
at school finding out, blah blah blah. How could I have been so
stupid? I needed to know her reaction; was she angry, furious,
mocking? I had never met Linda before, but she had been renting
the house for at least a year. She had long dark hair, and I
assumed was part Native American. We lived in a small town in
the Dakotas, near a Sioux reservation. I was mortified by
thought of the consequences.
After a minute I peeked out behind the windowshades. Linda was
standing in the exact same position, staring at the spot she had
seen me naked, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. I
couldn't make out any guesses as to her thoughts. I was almost
more concerned than if she had looked angry, because I'd at least
be able to understand that. I thought I was the one who should
be stunned and at a loss about what to do, but if she had a
reaction I couldn't begin to tell what it was. I needed
resolution, certainty, but none came: she just kept staring! I
had completely forgotten about how I was trying to find pleasure
in poking and humping things around the yard, but suddenly my
body alerted me to its needs; I suddenly had to use the bathroom.
Odd, I thought, but there was no denying it. I ran to the
toilet, and the weirdest thing happened...instead of urinating, a
bit of whiteness came out. I wasn't fully hard, and it came
irregularly, like urine, not in spurts. I wouldn't say it felt
pleasant or unpleasant; it was just very strange. Only after
this happened a few times later (ejaculating, not prancing about
and getting caught) did I get used to it and fully understand
what it was all about.
To my knowledge, Linda never told anyone about what she saw. I
never exposed myself in the yard again in the middle of the day,
though at night sometimes I would walk to the park and play
around there where I was sure no one would see. It was many
years before I was able to ejaculate by manual action alone; for
years I rubbed my penish against my legs, back between my
buttocks, or against another object. In fact it was rather hard
to do it just on my own, and I sought out outside conveniences.
It wasn't long before I discovered that if I sat on a rubber
swing seat (the kind that wraps around you; we used to call them
"butt squeezers), slid my penis outside my shorts and under my
butt behind me while swinging back and forth, thrusting my penish
between the rubber and my shorts, I could guarantee an orgasm.
It still wasn't nearly as pleasurable as they later became, and
it was caught up with fear and intense sweating, yet it was a
satisfying release, and a sense of power. Plus I could even do
this during the day at a playground or park, and thought that no
one would see who wasn't very nearby. I even did this at an
elementary school a few blocks from my house where I swung with
my back to an alley and a house. One time I did this and the
neighbor's car pulled into the garage behind me, with the older
lady greeting me on the swing. I simply assume that she didn't
see what I was doing, but she could have. I swung away and soon,
as usual, felt my orgasm blasting through the air behind me.
Some usually got on the back of my shorts but that was a small
price to pay. I've often wondered if any other young boys ever
discovered the same technique, or if I was alone in experiencing
the orgasmic potentials of the rubber swings. I'll quickly note
here that I never developed a "rubber fetish", and I'm pretty
sure I would find the same technique today very uncomfortable--it
put heavy pressure on the balls, for one thing! But at the time
it seemed almost like a secret sex toy.
I digress, of course, but this is all to show how naive and
unsophisticated I was at the time. You want to hear about my
first time, right? OK, well I was probably scared for a few
weeks and tried to avoid being seen by Linda at all, let alone
unclothed, but eventually found other sexual outlets and forgot
about my scare with her. I mowed lawns at our house and another
property down the street as my only real job. Linda usually
mowed hers, but the next summer she apparently had let it get
overgrown and it was too much for her small machine (perhaps a
push mower, I can't remember). So one day my parents told me
that she had asked if I could mow her lawn. I don't even know if
I spoke to Linda about arranging this or if my parents spoke to
her, but soon I was going through her lawn with our power mower
and cutting down a veritable jungle. It was a very hot day and I
wore only shorts and a t-shirt. The full gas tank on the mower
actually overflowed from the heat-induced pressure a couple of
times and I had to cool it off and restart it, and again a few
times after it got choked with grass. Linda herself was taking
advantage of the day by sunning herself on a lounge chair
outside, which she moved occasionally to stay out of my way.
There were a couple of other people around the house and yard,
including an older woman. I was never quite sure if they also
lived there or what their relationships were, but wasn't
concerned about that. I just remember thinking that this was
barely worth the offered money though, even for a small yard,
because of the trouble I was having with the mower. I wasn't
really concerned about the fact that Linda had caught me the year
before; I just assumed that was all in the past. She was tanning
in a bikini, and had a good body, though I wasn't as much of an
admirer of the female body as I later became.
I can't remember if I didn't actually collect the money until
another day or later that day after washing up, but I had cleaned
off some of my sweat when I came to Linda's door. She was in
back again and she invited me in through the back door. At this
time she was apparently the only one home. She had me sit down
at a little table and asked me how the job had gone, something
about the weather, small talk. I was a little nervous but not so
much because of what happened last summer, but just because I
rarely mowed lawns for neighbors who weren't regulars and I
didn't know her very well, and frankly wasn't very good at
talking to adults, especially adult women, in general. To be
honest, I don't remember all she asked me or what she said. At
some point though she brought up the fact that she had seen me
last summer. I was mortified and didn't know what to say. Her
expression was again pretty neutral, though she had been talking
in a friendly way. But she wasn't smiling or frowning, so it was
back to this big mystery: what was she thinking? I was frozen
with uncertainty, I felt like she had me in her power and I was
completely defenseless and wrong, there was nothing I could do to
help things and was entirely at her mercy.
After a minute she said something about it being OK, that other
boys masturbate and it was fine as long as I didn't do it in the
yard. I said "yes." (duh!) Not much emotion in my voice, but
not much in hers either. The whole thing felt really weird. She
then said it looked like I had an erection right now, which I
did, poking into my terry-cloth shorts like a tent pole. She was
staring at my crotch with her expressionless face and I was
staring at her. I could see her breasts pretty well in her
bikini top, and I have to say they looked nice but at the time I
wasn't really appreciating them, just afraid of what she might
do. For several minutes nothing happened, no one said anything.
She was probably afraid in her own way, but she at least knew
what she wanted to do, at least more than I did. She asked if I
had ever done anything with a girl, I said no. She asked if I
thought about it, which made me embarassed, I think I said yes
but in a shy whisper. She was silent for seveal more minutes.
Then suddenly she got down on her knees between my legs. Now
today there's nothing I would invite more eagerly but back then I
was scared frozen.
She sat there for a minute looking at my crotch, then asked "can
I see your penis again?"
I didn't know what to say. "I won't tell anyone, I can tell
you're scared but I really won't tell anyone. You showed it to
me before, I just want to see it again."
"OK" I said almost neutrally. I really would rather have just
left right then, with or without my money, but I couldn't do
anything until I had her permission at that point, I was so
terrified. I didn't do anything though; maybe she wanted me to
take it out but I couldn't do that. So she did, slipping her
hand inside my shorts and in a second pulling my penis out the
left side. It was long and rigid, though not as long or large as
it was when I fully matured. She looked up at me to see my
reaction, which might have been surprised, or just neutral/scared
still, I didn't know. But no one had touched me like this before
so I didn't know what to think. She held onto it and looked at
it again, feeling it out.
"How does that feel?" "It's OK" I said. Pause. "Do have
orgasms?" Silence; I was too embarrassed to answer. She asked
again after a long pause, neither impatient nor teasing. "Mm
hmm" I said softly.
"Do you want me to keep touching you?"
I was still scared stiff (in more ways than one), but this was
easier. "Yes." Not because I was thinking "cool, this chick's
gonna make me cum,"--hell no, I was not so confident and mature.
Rather, yes because no would mean I was telling her not to do
something she was doing, and I didn't feel I had that right;
again, she had me in her power. In my mind, I wasn't confident
that we had made an arrangement, a deal, an understanding; I was
still guilty as hell and I couldn't do anything against her. But
before you judge her as a molester, understand too that I didn't
want her not to touch me. I wanted to leave because escaping her
presence would reduce my embarassment over the fact that she
remembered seeing me naked in the yard, not because I was scared
of what she might do to me sexually. I was also truly curious
about what she might do, and vaguely thinking it would be good.
But the fact is, the question of whether or not I wanted her
sexual touch paled in comparison to the fact that I just felt
guilty and couldn't say no to her.
She pulled on my penis for a little while and I felt very
strange, not just because this had never been done to me before,
but because of who was doing it, this woman who I felt had power
over me. I wasn't feeling forced into this, but I also wasn't
feeling full sexual excitement because I couldn't relax enough
mentally to enjoy it.
After a while she put her mouth around my penis, as
matter-of-factly as anything else she had done, and started
sucking me. I guess I was relatively small still because very
soon she went all the way down on me without a problem. Again, I
couldn't enjoy it as much as I later learned to, but I can't say
I didn't like it. She looked up and asked if this felt OK. I
said yes (duh!), but more out of curiosity than excitement. I
couldn't even begin to imagine what this would lead to, what she
was doing. I had read about "blowjobs" in my dad's hidden stash
of porn magazines, but I could only vaguely imagine what they
were actually like. This first time though it was almost like
something I was watching than experiencing, the sensations were
so strange and unexpected.
It felt good though. It felt really good. And after a while I
was able to start to appreciate it, to admit to myself that it
felt good and that that was OK. She rested her arms on my legs
and touched my balls and cock while she slid her mouth over my
young penis. She looked at me often, but still without any real
emotion. Later I would have said she looked like someone just
sucking out of duty, or to finish a job (I've never been to a
prostitute, but this is what I could imagine one looking like:
neither having fun nor expressing hate, just covering up any
emotions she had, or being too jaded to have emotions over it,
and just getting it done). At the time it just left me more
puzzled about what she was thinking, and why she was doing this.
She was perhaps twice my age. I never knew if she had a
boyfriend, though apparently no man lived with her. She must've
watched me mowing and taken an interest in this boy she had once
caught exhibiting himself, but why she wanted to take it further,
and what she got out of it, I never knew.
I couldn't ask; I could only watch and accept. I looked up once
briefly and the whole thing felt surreal; the table, the walls,
they all were so unchanged, normal, just like they were, but down
below the sensation on my penis was incredible. Most of the time
I couldn't keep my eyes off her, and stared at her mouth
enveloping my cock. I have no idea how long this lasted.
Finally I shook, and felt the pulses which I released with low
whimpers into her mouth as we stared into each others' eyes. I
felt even more guilty now, I was certain that I had done
something even more terrible that put me in her power.
She kept sucking me for a while then pulled her mouth back so my
penis was just resting on her lower lip and asked if I was OK.
"Yes" I said (duh!) Well, not duh, I guess that was a good
question. I was sortof OK and sortof not, but again it wasn't
because I felt sexually abused, just I felt scared at what she
might tell people. She said that she enjoyed doing that and that
it was OK if I liked it, but that I shouldn't tell anyone about
it. I assured her that I wouldn't, and was sure that if I did I
would be the one to get into trouble. I was more afraid of what
my parents would say than what she would say though, I was
starting to trust her somewhat. And to her credit she never said
anything threatening to me, or suggesting that she would do
anything to hurt me. It was for my own good that I shouldn't
tell anyone, and in that sense I agreed with her reasoning,
though I only gradually came to understand that we thought about
it the same way, and that I could fully trust her.
She told me that I had a nice penis and again that it was OK to
masturbate and ejaculate. Then she got up and gave me the check
for my work. She asked if there was anything else I want to do
or so, which I didn't, so with what may have been her first smile
she told me I could go home, but I could come back and talk to
her again.
Talk to her again. Seriously? A euphemism? I didn't even know
enough to ask myself how she meant this. I was both happy to get
out and elated to have gotten release in such an interesting way.
I thought about this event for many weeks but didn't see her
very much. I masturbated inside much more often for a while,
though later I returned to doing it outdoors often, though that
basically ended when I went to college.
I occasionally saw Linda outside and we exchanged greetings, but
acted like nothing had happened. A couple of times that summer
she invited me back inside when I was alone. Once we just talked
a few minutes, she asked me about school and fed me cool-aid, but
nothing else. But on a later visit she asked if I liked what she
before. I said I did, so she asked if I wanted to do it again
(that's how she said it, not whether I wanted _her_ to do it
again; which puzzled me at the time, since I hadn't done
anything, except give her permission). "Maybe." That was
enough, and in a few minutes she went down on me again, in the
same chair in her kitchen as before.
This time at least I knew what to expect and enjoyed it much
more. My moans were slightly louder and I paid more attention to
what she was doing. She must have wanted to watch my orgasm
because when I started to cum she pulled back and started jerking
me off rapidly while she stared at my sperm streaming onto the
front of her shirt. After I finished she sucked on me again for
about ten minutes, keeping me hard, but I started to get
uncomforable in the end so she stopped. She asked if I liked
that which I assured her I did. Then she said I could thank her
(duh!--but then, no one had taught me sexual etiquette before),
so I said "thank you." "You're welcome," she replied, with one
of her rare slight smiles. We talked for a while about ordinary
things again and she didn't change her shirt, so I kept glancing
at the gobby stain I had given her, but she didn't seem to mind.
Again she said I shouldn't tell anyone and that we could do it
again if I kept it a secret.
A week later I felt horny and knocked on her door. She came up
and greeted me, but soon said that this was a bad time. Nothing
harsh, but I felt rejected and didn't think about seeing her
again for a long time. After that I only saw her occasionally,
and a year later she moved out. I would have no idea how to find
her now, and don't really know what motivated her to seduce me.
I suspected that she may have let her lawn grow long just to get
me into her yard and out of my shorts, but I'll never know. No
will I ever know if she did this with other boys at any time, and
if it was my youth that attracted her, my brazenness, or just my
availability. (I doubt it was anything about my personality,
since we didn't have much to talk about.) I don't blame her for
what she did, and feel mildly happy about it, but overwhelmingly
it was just a strange thing that I didn't know how to deal with.
I don't think it hurt me, and I wouldn't want her exposed for
what she did. So Linda, once again, thank you. I did enjoy it,
and would love to meet you again as an adult, though I know we
never will.
---------------------------------
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