Message-ID: <21721asstr$944795401@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <38505430.7E690@nls.net> From: Varangian X-Accept-Language: en Subject: {ASSM} The Yardboys (F/teen boys) Date: Thu, 9 Dec 1999 22:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, IceAltar The usual disclaimer warning youngesters about this mind-rotting stuff below. <1st attachment, "The Yardboys.txt" begin> THE YARDBOYS Emma Horger felt a bit cranky, when she awakened just after six on a Saturday morning that promised to be a glorious day. The early morning Sun cast long, crisp shadows across the street in front of her house, and she breathed deeply the fresh, cool air of the day just beginning as she retrieved her newspaper from the sidewalk. Clad in slippers and a long, white bathrobe, her hair somewhat dishevelled, the fortyish woman looked blowzy, and she was pleased that there was no one else on the street to notice her. She did not gaze at the azure sky which was decorated with small puffs of white clouds, not did her mind dwell on the beauty of the lush green of her lawn, which needed its first trimming in the middle of May. She was cranky and hungover, and her only sensory pleasure at that moment was the rich aroma of coffee which greeted her as she reentered her house. Emma was feeling sorry for herself. The evening before she had drunk too much vodka as she watched a movie on television, a film which she could only vaguely remember, because she fell asleep half way through it. Or did she pass out? She awakened at dawn, still in the chair, the television blaring the noise of a violent, animated program directed at children. She had a crick in her neck and a sour stomach. She rubbed herself in her loneliness, still half asleep, bringing forth a quick pleasure which caused her slender body to jerk. Emma hated doing that. She detested masturbation, because it was a clear indication that she did not have a man, that she was alone despite her prettiness. Jack, her husband, was away as usual, this time in Brazil, making money in ways which she found incomprehensible. "Oh shit!" she cried as she stumbled in the kitchen and spilled hot coffee on her right foot. She flung the mug to the floor in her frustration, smashing it, then immediately regretted her loss of control, which would require her to clean up the mess. Emma hunched over the newspaper which spread across on the kitchen table. She enjoyed the familiar routine of drinking coffee and eating toast as she read the paper, although her mind did not record much of the news. After breakfast she filled the dishwasher, but she did not set it going, because she wanted first to take a shower. It was turning into a normal morning for the woman. In the shower she delighted once again in the realization that she had no flab on her slender body, unlike Jack, who was absolutely dumpy. Emma began to feel better about herself. She thought that she might invite her old friend Karen to join her on a trip to the art museum that afternoon. * * * At half past eight the doorbell rang and Emma responded, now freshly bathed and clad in shorts and a halter which did not entirely cover her flat belly. When she opened the door she encountered two young men before her. No, they were not men, she then realized, nor were they children. They were two boys in their mid teens, the taller one looking almost like an adult, the younger one grinning like a kid. "Hi, Mrs. Horger," the older boy began. "Mr. Jacobsen at the hardware store said that you were looking for someone to do your lawn. I'm Greg Nordson, and this is my cousin Carl Nordson. We have everything necessary to do the job," he said, waving his arm at a dilapidated pick up which was laden with equipment. Emma had indeed been looking for someone to do her front and back yards, which were rather extensive, and she was delighted by the appearance of the two good looking boys. She noticed with amusement that Carl stared intently at her bare navel. "Are you from the high school? I left a note on the bulletin board about the job." "Yes, ma'am, we saw that too," Greg responded. "Well, this is just fine. I'll hire you, if you can continue through the entire Summer." "We can do that, Mrs. Horger, because we aren't going to Scout camp this year." "Splendid," Emma replied in satisfaction, seeing an annual chore resolved. "Don't cut the grass too short the first time," she admonished the boys. "We understand, ma'am. My dad taught me about that," Greg assured her. They settled on the payment, and the boys then set off to do Emma's yardwork. For the next two hours Emma listened to the whir and clatter of machinery outside as the boys cut the grass and trimmed the hedges. She gazed at them from her windows, especially after they pulled off their shirts in the growing heat of the morning. She ogled them, Greg almost manly in size, although with scant body hair, and Carl, a pretty boy, surely no older than fourteen. Their bodies glisten with sweat as they labored under the hot Sun. Emma prepared a pitcher of lemonade for the toiling lads, eager to bring it to them, to see their half nakedness up close. She went into the back yard where they were working, almost an acre of trees, lawn and bushes with a gazebo in the middle of it. "Greg," she shouted to make herself heard over the roar of the machines. The boy turned, grinned and shut off the racket. "Here's some lemonade for you. You should take a break," she said with a smile. Carl came over, and the three of them proceeded to the shade of the gazebo, where they sat around a table and drank lemonade. Greg was as tall as she, Emma noticed, and Carl was just a little shorter. "Won't you miss Scout camp this year," Emma said, trying to start a conversation. "No ma'am," Greg responded. "I don't like living in tents." "Call me Emma." "Yes ma'am." "Emma," Carl spoke up, "do you live in his huge place all alone?" "I have no children, Carl, and my husband travels on business, so I'm alone much of the time." "You must not like that," the boy responded with a certain, knowing look which belied his youth. "No, it can be very lonely at times." "Well, we'll be over every week to do your yard work, and we can keep you company." "Yes, Carl, I know, and I look forward to it," Emma responded, wondering if the young boy was entirely innocent, as his older cousin obviously was. Emma looked at Carl's hairless chest and unmuscled, graceful arms. He was so lovely, she thought. Greg's sweaty chest was almost as hairless, but he was powerfully developed. Emma felt a twinge of lust. She had never had a virgin. "When you're finished," she said suddenly, "come up to the house and take a shower to cool yourselves off. "Yes, ma'am," Greg said numbly. "I'd like that very much, Emma," the younger boy replied with a grin. Emma carried the tray of glasses and the pitcher back to the house as the boys resumed they noisy work. She was excited, although she could not imagine realizing her fantasies about the two handsome boys. It was just a dream thought, she told herself as she went into the house and tried to think of other, more adult things. But she couldn't. She stood at the window and stared at the youngsters outside, yearning for something. "Greg, you can use the shower in the guest room at the far end of the upstairs hall, and Carl can use my bathroom," Emma announced after the boys came into the kitchen dripping sweat. The three of them went up the stairs and Emma showed them the way to their respective bathrooms. She heard the noise of water spraying, a distant one from the guest room and one closer by in her own bedroom. She went into her room and sat on her bed, quivering, not knowing what she was about. When the shower was turned off, she became very nervous, yet she remained sitting on the bed looking at the bathroom door. Carl soon emerged holding a towel in front of his naked body. "Hi," he grinned, when he saw the woman. His arm dropped, pulling the towel with it to reveal his erect penis, just about five inches long, jutting forth from a modest pubic bush. "Would you dry my back, Emma," he said with a sly look, coming up to her. The woman was excited by the sight of his beauty. His smooth legs were almost girlish. The entirety of him was androgynous, as though he belong to a separate, third sex, neither male nor female. He stood in front of her, his hard, virginal looking cock jerking occasionally. She was inflamed and clasped him to her, burying her face into his soft tummy, squeezing his scant buttocks with both hands. The boy put his hand on her head and gently pressed it downward until his penis pushed against her chin. In a passion Emma took the boy's cock into her mouth, savoring its unique texture and taste before she began to suck it with a purpose. The young boy did not last long. He squealed aloud and began to spew his stuff into Emma's mouth causing her to gag a bit. "What's going on here?" a deeper voice sounded from the doorway. "Go away, Greg!" the younger boy cried, interrupted in the midst of his orgasm. "What are you doing?" the older boy demanded, although the facts were obvious. Emma collapsed upon the bed face down, semen drooling from her mouth, staining the quilt. She was mortified, and she had not yet begun to think of the legal consequences. "Greg, just go away," the frustrated boy exclaimed. "This doesn't concern you." "Do I get a blow job too?" Carl's mouth opened, but he said nothing. A resolution of the crisis was at hand, he thought. Emma breathed a sigh of relief, her face still pressed against a pillow. She raised her torso from the bed and looked at the older boy. "Yes, Greg, you too," she said sweetly. * * * "Can we all get naked, you know?" Carl asked sheepishly, realizing that he was the only one naked at the moment. "Sure," Emma responded in an even voice, although she was excited beyond measure, knowing that she was about to fuck the two lovely boys. "Do you mind undressing, Greg?" she asked. "No ma'am . . .Emma,:" he replied, and tore off his clothes in a flurry. He had a man-sized cock, almost seven inches long, Emma gaged, and fat. She was eager for it, staring at his appendage as she took off her shorts and halter, and then her under clothes. Carl immediately grasped the woman and began to suck a breast desperately. "Baby, you're hurting me," Emma cooed, pushing the boy's head away. "Greg, darling, would you like something better than a blow job," Emma slyly asked the older boy, because she did not want any more spunk in her mouth, and also because she wanted to feel his boner inside her. 'Ya, I suppose," the boy responded dumbly, not yet understanding what Emma had in mind. Emma reclined on the bed with her legs apart. "Come on, get on top of me," she said, raising her arms in invitation. Greg hesitated, not yet comprehending that he was being invited to fuck. There was nothing in the Scout manual that covered this situation. Carl, however, knew exactly what was being offered. He climbed upon the bed and positioned his body between Emma's legs. "Just push it in, baby," Emma cooed, "I'll teach you the rest later." Carl's modest cock did not excite the woman, but his beauty did. She achieved an orgasm staring at his pretty face as he pumped her in erratic strokes. "Oh, God!" she cried and kissed the lovely boy, holding him tightly to her until he yelled out in ecstasy. "Is it my turn now?" Greg asked as his cousin rolled off the satisfied woman, semen oozing from her onto the quilt. "Sure, Greg," Emma responded, eager for a big cock. The boy, the young man was rough and impatient. He slammed his large cock into the woman unmindful of the protocols and formalities. Emma gasped at the feel of him, relishing the weight, the heft of him on top of her. Greg lasted a remarkable duration for a virgin. He fucked the woman until she fell completely out of control. "Bobby!" Emma cried aloud in orgasm, remembering her first lover, when she was twelve. Greg soon spewed forth with a high pitched yell, spurt after spurt, the seed of the sixteen year old seemingly inexhaustible. Then he was done, and he wondered in severe post coital depression what he was doing on top of this woman who was as old as his grandma. He got up grimly and put on his clothes, saying nothing, not looking at Emma who lay upon the bed in great satisfaction. He then left the room abruptly. "Can I visit you tomorrow, Emma?" Carl asked eagerly. "Yes, of course. But could you make sure that Greg doesn't talk?" "He's sometimes weird, but I can control him," the boy replied. "Do you think that he will continue to do the yardwork?" "Sure, we need the money. And when he gets horny," the boy added sagely, "he'll want you again." ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP) system due to linelengths exceeding the 75 character limit. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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