The Ordinary Housewife

My story starts at the beginning of last summer, when my husband Simon and I moved to a new town in Southern England, along with our two young sons, and into a newly built house on a brand new housing development.

We are both the same age, approaching the end of our twenties, with the big ‘THREE-ZERO’ looming ever closer. We have been happily married since we were both aged twenty, and our two boys are now aged five and six. We are a couple very much in love with each other, and have a contented life.

On the estate we had moved to, the next phase of houses around ours was still being built and other houses were still being finished. The sparse landscaping around our property left a lot to be desired, and in keeping with the surroundings, our own gardens still looked like a building site.

SUNDAY.

After a month of living in the new house we had finally settled in. Simon had started his new job as an associate at a local solicitors firm, and the boys were enjoying their new junior school. Simon earned enough money from his job, so I didn’t have to work while our boys were still young, but as a housewife I looked after the house and boys during the day.

We had finally finished decorating the interior of the house, and it was exactly how we had wanted it to look. The exterior however was not at all as I had imagined. I decided that enough was enough, and that we were finally going to do something about the garden. It was a lovely summer’s weekend, and the perfect time to get out and look for something to make the garden look nice. I also wanted a safe place for our boys to be able play. After doing a little bit of online research we drove to the local nursery to get some ideas, and hopefully buy a few trees and plants to get us started.

As we wondered through the seemingly endless rows in the veritable forest of trees and bushes we were approached by a young woman who asked us if she could help us at all. She appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen, very petite and very pretty. She was about 5’ 4” tall, with blue-grey eyes, and long light brown hair reaching down to the middle of her back. She wore what appeared to be the standard nursery uniform; dark green polo shirt, with the company logo emblazoned across the chest, along with matching shorts, both looked about two sizes too big for her. She had slender tanned legs, and on her feet she wore an old, scruffy pair of dirty pink and white trainers.

It was a stiflingly hot summer’s afternoon; probably in the high eighties, and even with the oversized polo shirt I could tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I was sure that if I had noticed this fact, then my husband would have as well, so as we followed the girl I led my two boys along, but also kept my eye on Simon, curious to see if I could catch him checking her out.

As we walked around, looking at the various different plants I began to get the feeling that this girl was flirting with Simon. Maybe it was my imagination, but she seemed to be taking every available opportunity to bend over in front of us, seemingly offering him a view down the front of her shirt. On a few occasions, as she squatted down to read the tags on the bottom branch of a particular shrub or bush, she bent in such a way that her thighs opened up, and her shorts gaped open to expose her legs all the way up to where her obvious tan lines started. I was beginning to think that this girl wasn’t wearing any panties either!

After a further forty minutes or so we had picked out quite a few different trees and plants; far too much for us to take home by ourselves. The girl led us to the greenhouse office to pay for them, and to arrange for them to be delivered, and also for them to be planted in our garden. Everything was arranged for the following Wednesday. I was amazed they would come over so quickly. The girl completed the necessary paperwork and handed us our copy. Across the bottom she had written, “Thanks! Becky.” We said our goodbyes, and she smiled and gave a big goodbye wave to our boys, and we left to return to our car and back home.

Once we were at our car I immediately started to tease Simon about the girl and the way she was dressed, and that she seemed to have been flirting with him. Simon is the shy type, and he immediately blushed, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red. He said that he really hadn’t noticed.

“She was just dressed for the weather,” he said with a smile. “If you worked there you’d probably dress the same way!”

I continued to tease him.

“But she was very pretty, wasn’t she?” I asked.

“Well, I suppose she was cute!” he answered eventually.

“Aha! I knew it!” I shouted.

We had a good laugh, kissed, then headed home.

TUESDAY.

It was around midday, and I was in the house doing some housework as I normally do. Simon was at work and the boys were at school; so I was on my own until at least 3:30pm, when I had to go to pick the boys. I had some music on the stereo as I went about my chores. Suddenly the doorbell rang, startling me. I switched off the stereo, and when I looked out of the window to see who it was, I could see a large white van from the garden centre parked on the driveway.

“They’re a day early!” I thought to myself. But then I thought that was okay, and it was better to get the planting over and done with. It would also be a surprise for Simon if he came home to find the planting all done.

As I opened the door I was surprised to see the girl from the garden centre; Becky. She was dressed just as she had been when we saw her on Sunday. It was another very hot day outside. The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky. She was sipping from an almost empty water bottle. Her face looked hot and sweaty, and I imagined that sitting inside a van on a day like today would not be a very pleasant experience.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully. “Remember me? Becky? I just came by to take a look at where we’ll be planting tomorrow. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

I said “Hello,” and told her that she wasn’t bothering me at all, and that I was just doing some laundry, so I could probably do with a break anyway. I invited her inside the house, and as she followed me through to the back door, I told her that my husband was at work and the kids were at school. She nodded and smiled at me, before explaining further that she just needed to check that there would be no problems in our garden before they came to do the work on Wednesday morning. I was a little disappointed that nothing was being done today, but we had arranged for the work to be done on Wednesday, so I couldn’t really complain.

Since I had been working inside I was wearing one of my old pairs of denim shorts, and one of Simon’s old white work shirts. My feet were bare, and I stopped at the back door to slip on my sandals, before we walked out into the humid heat of the back garden. I pointed out to her where we had put out some wooden stakes in the ground on Sunday evening, to mark the various locations for the new trees and bushes. She looked around the garden, checking the locations, making some alternative suggestions, and making sure that access would be sufficient for their workers. Eventually we wondered back over to the paved patio as we talked about gardening. When I mentioned to her that I had always wanted a vegetable garden, she said that she’d be happy to get me started.

She seemed like a genuinely pleasant girl, and as we chatted some more, I learned that she had been working in the garden centre, which was the family business, in some form or another, since she was twelve years old. She told me that she was about to start her final year at college in the coming September, and that one day she hoped to take over the business from her parents. As we talked she tilted her head back to drain the final mouthful of water from her bottle. As she did this some of the liquid escaped from her lips, trickling down over her chin and onto her neck, running down onto her chest underneath the polo shirt, soaking into the dark material. She giggled with embarrassment, and lifted her hand to rub the water into the sweaty skin on her neck and chest.

“God! It has been so hot these past few days, hasn’t it?” she moaned.

She noticed that I was now staring at her as her fingers continued to slowly rub and stroke the smooth, tanned skin on her neck. I froze for a second, shocked that I had been caught looking at her like that.

“Well,” I stammered, pointing at the empty bottle in her hand, “why don’t you let me refill that for you?”

She smiled and nodded, and we walked back into the house and headed for the kitchen.

Moving from the intense heat of the midday sun into the air-conditioned coolness inside of the house gave me a shiver, and made my nipples instantly harden. As I had thought I would be at home on my own for most of the day I hadn’t put on a bra, and my erect nipples pressed against the material of my shirt, making me feel a little excited. As we reached the fridge I turned to take Becky’s water bottle, and I couldn’t help glancing down, noticing that she was in exactly the same condition as I was, with her little buds poking out against her damp T-shirt. I also noticed that she was looking at straight at my nipples.

I was beginning to feel a little strange. I had never been with another woman before, and had never even fantasised about it. I suppose that like most women, I’d wondered what it might be like, but had never thought about trying anything. Now, here I was, getting turned on by this young girl. Or maybe it was just the heat outside that had made me feel a little light-headed.

I stood for a few seconds, watching her as she watched me, before finally reaching out my hand and taking her water bottle. I filled it to the brim, and also filled a glass of water for myself, and we both took a long cold drink. There was an odd kind of tension in the air, and I needed to say something to try to break it.

I smiled and joked, “You know, my husband thinks you were flirting with him yesterday!”

Okay, so I stretched the truth a little bit.

We both giggled nervously.

She looked at me right in the eye.

“I wouldn’t do that,” she said. “I don’t flirt with men!”

It took me a minute to realise the meaning behind what she had said, but before I could respond she swiftly stepped forward, raised herself up on her tiptoes, and kissed me quickly on the lips, before stepping back away from me again. I was stunned and scared half to death, but at the same time I felt shivers of excitement coursing up my spine, and shock waves ran through my whole body down to my toes. My nipples tingled, becoming even harder. I don’t remember deciding to do what I did next, but I somehow moved to her and bent my head down and returned the kiss. It was the softest, sweetest, most tender kiss I had ever experienced. At first it was just our lips gently touching, but Becky slowly opened her mouth, and I felt the tip of her tongue gently trying to make its way into my mouth. It was like no other kiss I had ever had. My whole body trembled, and I wanted to kiss her so very much.

I surrendered and opened my mouth for her, and soon our tongues were twisting and dancing together, and I lifted my hands to cradle her head gently. She reached up and cupped one of my breasts in her hand, whilst letting her other stray to the back of my neck. Her hands dropped abruptly, grabbing at my waist, pulling us closer together. Our bodies touched, our curves moulding together. We held each other, kissing passionately, for several moments, before she let go, breaking the kiss. She backed away a few steps and hoisted herself up onto the kitchen worktop. She sat there facing me, a wide smile on her face as she stared into my eyes.

I swiftly stepped forward towards her, making up the ground between us, and as she parted her knees wide allowing me to stand between her thighs, we kissed again. She lifted her legs, wrapping them around me, trapping me, digging her heels into my backside. I felt her fingers on me, skilfully and methodically unbuttoning my shirt at my chest. I made no attempt to stop her, and she eventually reached the last button; unclasping it, pushing the material to the sides and off my shoulders, exposing my upper body and naked chest. As my shirt slid down my arms, dropping to the floor, she broke our kiss and, without pausing for a second, trailed her tongue down across my neck, before lowering her lips to my breasts. She slowly and delicately licked and sucked on each of my hard nipples, finally settling on my left, which she gently tongued and nibbled between her teeth, while her small hands worked on both breasts. I quivered at each light touch she made, a warm glow starting to build deep inside my body. I could not remember ever being as excited as I was at that moment. Looking down, it just turned me on even more that it was another woman doing this to me, and not my husband. My breathing was now reduced to long, deep, shuddering pants. I arched my back and moaned, and she enjoyed this.

I had to quickly grab hold of the wall cabinet to keep my balance, as my legs were beginning to feel a little weak. Her hands slowly skimmed down my sides, delicately sliding over my skin, and across my hips to the front of my shorts. I knew where she was heading, and I didn’t want her to stop. Her fingers fumbled a little with the top button, but soon it popped open, and I felt the zipper sliding down and then her warm fingers slithering past the waistband of my panties. Electricity bolted though my body to my pussy and clitoris, and I moaned out softly. I clumsily pushed my shorts down my legs for her with my own hands, and kicked them off my feet to my side, leaving me clad now in only my powder-blue coloured panties. She immediately slid her hand further down under the delicate lacy material toward my centre, and I felt her fingers brush through my short pubic hair, and to the top cleft of my pussy. She moved lower, her fingers sinking into my slit. The sheer amount of wetness she found there must have been incredible. I was turned on in a way I had never ever experienced before. I felt a shiver going up and down my spine as my most private feminine place was being explored and caressed by this girl.

Becky began to move her fingers up and down my through the folds of my pussy and over my clitoris, before eventually pushing two fingers inside me, making me groan out loud. She moved her fingers in and out, making a wet, squishy sound in my wetness. I pushed my hips against her hand. She pushed the full length of her fingers into me, and sucked a little harder on my nipple. The combination of stimulations; her mouth on my breast, her fingers buried deep in me, her heels pulling against my bottom; was overwhelming. I was whimpering at this point, and it only took three or four more strokes of her fingers in my pussy, before I began moaning and clinging onto her for dear life. I came so hard and so suddenly that I nearly dragged us both crashing to the kitchen floor. It was the hottest, strongest, most amazing climax I had ever had.

She held on to me as I tried to catch my breath and regain my composure. I leaned against her and the kitchen worktop on which she was still sitting, and we looked deeply into each other’s eyes. We kissed gently and laughed. I could hardly believe what had just happened to me. I felt drained, but at the same time filled with an intense feeling of excitement and desire. I knew I had to make this girl feel just as wonderful as she had just made me feel.

We continued to kiss, and my excitement kept growing and growing. Each kiss became deeper and more sensual, and my hands began to roam around her young body; over her back, trailing my fingers down her spine to squeeze and caress her bottom. I moved up to her front, finding her small round breasts and gently squeezed and fondled them through her polo shirt. I lowered my hands, grabbing at the hem of her shirt, and she threw her arms above her head, like a child would when someone is pulling off their T-shirt. I quickly tugged it over her belly, past her bare chest, and up over her head, before tossing it over my shoulder and onto the floor behind me. There she sat before me. She was absolutely gorgeous; her breasts weren’t big, but instead were perfectly sized for her age and slender frame, with reddish-brown areola and nipples like pencil erasers. Her flat stomach raised and lowered with excitement. Her skin was tanned, and glistened with a fine covering of sweat.

With trembling fingers I reached out and touched the flesh of another woman’s breasts for the first time in my life. They were soft and warm. Her skin was so velvety. I pinched and pulled and twisted at her nipples gently, and she let out a little moan. I hoped that she was enjoying this as much as I was. We kissed again, long and deep, while I continued to knead her breasts. Slowly I traced my tongue down over her neck to her chest and into the valley between her breasts. I gently rubbed my face between those breasts, feeling her sweat cover my cheeks, before I slowly kissed my way to her right nipple. At first I only flicked across the tip with my tongue, but was soon overcome by the urge to suck it into my mouth. I loved the feel and texture of the tiny goose bumps and wrinkles. I sucked and nibbled like I was a child, and her nipple was my favourite kind of sweet.

Becky was breathing hard and her body was squirming around. I looked down and realised that she was trying to shimmy herself out of her shorts as she sat on the counter.

“You’re going to have to help me with these,” she giggled. “I think I’m stuck!”

I hesitated for a moment. I wasn’t sure that I was ready for this, but the look on her face propelled me to take what was clearly the next step. I quickly hooked my fingers in the waistband of her shorts and, while she lifted herself up of the worktop, I began to peel her shorts down her thighs. I could have easily passed out as her wet pussy appeared, pointing straight at me, seeming to thrust up in my direction. I stared straight at it, as I finished pulling her shorts down her legs, past her knees, then down to her ankles, and finally off over her trainers. I was right about the other day. She wore no panties.

Dropping her shorts to the floor, I stood and again stared at her small, delectable body, now completely naked. Her legs were smooth and perfectly shaped. Her thighs looked soft and inviting. What struck me as most captivating however, was seeing that her pubic area was completely clean-shaven. While I usually trim my pubic hair, hers was completely bald. It was stunning. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Her whole body was so beautiful, and I wanted to run my hands all over it. I slowly slid my fingers across her belly until I reached her pussy. It was hot and slick with her juice. I moved my finger back and forward over its plump lips. I slowly got down on my knees to get a better look at her, and she spread her legs for me and shuffled forward so her bottom rested near the edge of the worktop. My face got closer, and I could see every wonderful detail of her. The skin around the puffy lips was slightly darker than the rest. Her labia where swollen and full, and they seemed to almost pout out at me, soaked with the dew of lubrication. She was very wet indeed.

If I had any doubts about myself and my ability to do what came next, they were quickly erased as I inhaled her scent. I had never smelled another woman’s pussy before, and it was an intoxicating mixture of perspiration and musk. There was nothing artificial. No perfume, no cologne or powder; just the raw, natural, sweet aroma of this girl’s lust. I leaned in closer and inhaled deeply. The odour filled my head and made me dizzy with desire. I had to have her. The urge to lean over and taste this girl was overpowering.

I bent forward, touching her pussy with my mouth, and slid my tongue between its dewy folds. I was tentative at first, but the slippery, salty taste made me press on. I stretched out my tongue as far as it would go and licked her glistening slit from the bottom to the very top, not neglecting to tickle her little clit. Becky giggled and moaned and squirmed as I got my first taste of another woman. She was sweet and tangy, not unlike my own juices, which I have tasted a few times. But there were subtle differences that I couldn’t quite put a finger on. But this wasn’t a wine tasting, and I didn’t waste any more time trying to compare flavours.

I slid my tongue back inside her, wriggling it around while my teeth lightly nibbled at her wet pussy lips and clit. She started to make little animal sounds. It made me feel incredibly sexy to think that I was getting this girl so excited. Her sounds urged me on and made me feel more aggressive. I started sucking on her clit while driving my tongue deep into her.

I could feel her shifting her body around, and I looked up to see what she was doing. One by one, she had lifted both feet up, placing them flat on the worktop next to her, opening herself up to me further. She reached down under her bent legs and gently spread her lips apart with her fingers, holding her pussy wide open for me, exposing her inner depths. At that moment it occurred to me what a sight we would have made if Simon had walked in on us right now. Here was this gorgeous girl sitting on my kitchen worktop, naked apart from those grubby little trainers. And here I was; an ordinary housewife, on my knees in front of her, naked except for my now soaking panties, with my face buried in her wet pussy. Of course at that point I doubt I would have even noticed if anyone had walked in. I doubt I would have stopped even if the house was on fire.

I returned my full attention to Becky’s pussy, slurping and licking at it for all I was worth. All my inhibitions were being forced out of me and I displayed all of my passions. I slid my tongue over her fingers, and she began moving them, rubbing herself. I licked away at her fingers and pussy as we both slid up and down her open slit. Dropping lower I tongued her hole again. In and out I went, wiggling my tongue as I lapped at the insides. I was at the heart of her femininity and she had nothing left to hide. She began oscillating and grinding her hips against my face, in rhythm with my tongue, her breath raging and uncontrolled. She watched as I sucked all of her young juices, and God did I love them! I was out of control, and began drooling saliva out of the sides of my mouth, as my tongue stimulated her young sensitive pussy.

I was really worked up myself by now, and I slowly slid my hand down across my belly to my soaked panties, grabbing at the waistband, pulling them so that the material rode up into the folds of my pussy. I slipped my hand down the front of my panties, my fingers finding my own slit throbbing and soaking wet. I plunged two fingers inside myself and started to hump against my hand as I intensified the pleasure my mouth was giving her.

I had just about fingered myself to a second intense orgasm when she started to squeal and thrash about. She was getting red faced, and her eyes seemed glazed.

“My God,” I thought. “I’m making her cum!”

That just about did it for me, and I came all over my hand, rocking and squeezing on my clit. Seconds later, her sweet juices splashed all over my lips as she orgasmed. Shuddering, she moaned loudly, closing her thighs, squeezing them onto my cheeks. She bucked her hips, pushing forward against my face, her whole body shaking. I glanced up at her, seeing her face puckered in the pleasures of satisfaction.

As her soft moans died down and her hips finally stopped bouncing up and down, I looked up at her again, this time letting my gaze travel across her entire body. Her pussy glistened and her tummy quivered and heaved as she panted. Her mouth was slightly open and beads of sweat had formed on her upper lip. She looked down at me and smiled contently.

I helped her hop down from the worktop and she collapsed to the floor beside me. We were both wasted, and we sat, wrapped in each others arms, gently stroking each others skin.

After a few minutes the spell was broken by the abrupt sound of a mobile phone ringing. Becky jumped as though she had been stung by a bee, and scrambled to get at the phone in the pocket of her shorts. She answered it, listening to whoever it was that had phoned her, before she eventually stammered something into it in reply, saying that she had just stopped off to look at another job, and that she was on her way back. She hung up the call.

“I’m so late!” she said, as she clumsily threw on her clothes.

On very shaky legs I walked her to the front door, paying no attention whatsoever to the fact that I was nearly naked. She kissed me quickly on the lips, smiled, and said that she really had to hurry.

“But,” she said, grinning, “I know where you live!”

With that she ran out and quickly got into the van, started the noisy engine and reversed off the driveway.

As I watched her drive off I wondered if what had just happened was real, or if it might have been some very sexy dream. My head was spinning, and all I could do straight afterwards was take a long, steaming hot shower, and try to clear my mind. I still felt incredibly sexy; so sexy that I could barely keep my fingers out of my pussy as the hot water cascaded over me, pounding against my skin. I had to masturbate several times just to relax myself, the entire time recalling in my mind what had happened. I was tense for the remainder of the afternoon, as I pottered around the house, waiting until it was time to collect the kids.

Later that afternoon Simon arrived home from work, and it was as if we were back to normal. I remained a little uptight for the rest of the evening, but Simon didn’t seem to notice anything untoward.

Early on Wednesday morning, the garden centre crew arrived as arranged, and expertly planted all of our trees and shrubs. Becky wasn’t with them.

I have been fantasising about Becky ever since and cannot get her, or what we did on that amazing day out of my mind. On several occasions, whilst alone at home, I have dialled the number of the garden centre, only to run out of courage and hang up before anyone answered. One afternoon I even drove over to the nursery, but left without ever getting out of my car. Maybe one day I will have the courage to see her again.

. . . . . . . . . .

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