When I was out at my fire pit one night, drinking a cold glass of Chardonnay and thinking about my next work project, I mindlessly eavesdropped on the people in my neighbors’ yard.

Someone yelped, “Virgin!” and my ears perked right up. All thoughts of the ad campaign I was working on fled. I tried not to be obvious as I poured myself a little more wine and leaned toward the fence that separated our yards.

My neighbors’ son, Josh, was home from college. It was his voice I heard growl in response, “Jesus, Bob, say it a bit louder.”

“But girls hang all over you.” Bob laughed. “And you’ve never tapped any of that. I mean, seriously?”

I imagined Josh, who’d always been a cute, sweet, polite kid, blushing in the darkness.

“Never liked any of them enough.”

“Who says you have to like them?”

“I do, asshole.” I smiled at the edge in Josh’s voice. He sounded pissed.

The other guy groaned, and then someone else said, “Leave him alone.”

I shot a look toward their yard and spotted three figures. The third person was female. All of their faces were lit with the glow of their fire pit. I’m sure mine was that way, too. Clearly, I wasn’t invisible over here, and yet they rambled on about sex and college and drinking.

I sipped my wine and pretended I hadn’t heard a word. But I shifted in my seat more than once because my plan was to ask Josh for some help the next day. I had a thing for virgins, and if they were sweet, cute, and had a mind of their own — even better. Josh had known me for years. That would be in my favor or not. Only time would tell.

When I went to bed that night, I pushed my hands into my panties and pictured his pretty, young face. His light blond hair and dark brown eyes and the cut of his broad shoulders. Josh was a swimmer, and it showed in his gait and his build. His mother had never failed to regale me with tales of his accomplishments, meets and awards.

I was always more than willing to listen.

I stroked my clit and raised my hips, wondering what that mouth would feel like on my pussy. Wondering what kind of stamina a 21-year-old boy possessed these days. Most likely, it hadn’t changed from when I was 21. These days, virgins are usually a bit younger, but I was thrilled to know that this one was legal to drink and still hadn’t buried his cock in a pussy.

I was hoping to be his first.

With those thoughts in my head and my hand in my panties, I came hard and fast before rolling over and going to sleep. The last thing on my mind was what excuse I could come up with to get him into my house the next day.

That was easy enough to think up over my morning coffee. I had a chore I’d wanted to do for a while but hadn’t because it was a two-person job. Since my husband and I had divorced, I’d learned how to do lots of things, including how to vacuum out the dryer vent. It was moving the dryer that was an issue for me.

I made sure my nipples were visible through my sheer tunic — but not too much. Just a hint. Just enough to imply that I had no idea they could be seen. I was 15 years Josh’s senior and wondered if he liked older women or not. There was no way to know but to try.

I knocked on the neighbors’ door and held my breath. Josh answered and stood there looking slightly sleep-stunned and disheveled and utterly adorable.

“Oh, Josh, hi! Is your dad home?”

I knew damn well he wasn’t. I knew for a fact that both of his parents were at work.

“No. He’s at the office.”

“Ah,” I said, making sure to put on my best disappointed expression. “Thanks. I can try him later.”

“Everything okay?”

“I just need to move my dryer and clean the vent. I don’t want a fire. I get a little paranoid about it.” I laughed. “He usually helps me. It’s a big one and too much for just me to move.”

He grinned. “I can help. Give me a minute to get dressed, and I’ll come over.”

“He gathered up my moisture, and then he rubbed my clit with his slick fingers.”

I nodded, barely managing to keep myself from grinning.

I saw his eyes skim the front of my tunic and knew he could see my nipples. His gaze made them pebble, and a rush of wetness escaped my pussy to flood the crotch of my panties.

“I’ll be right there.”

My hope was that, after knowing me for years and years, he liked me enough to give me his virginity. I’d hold on to my hope as long as I could.

In my house, I paced as I waited for him to show. I was nervous, and I was horny, and I really wanted to manage not to tackle him when he walked in the door.

He knocked, and I jumped. A laugh slipped out of me, and I covered my mouth. A fresh escape of honey flowed from my cunt, and I had to take a deep breath to keep myself steady.

“Hi, thanks so much for helping me.” I barely gave him enough room to push past me. So when he did, his chest brushed my breasts. I saw some color flood his cheeks, and I was pleased.

In the laundry room, we levered the tall dryer away from the wall. I’d gone crazy after my divorce, getting a wonderful — nearly industrial — washer and dryer.

Now came the important part. I smiled at him and said, “I’ll crawl back there. It’s a tight fit.”

I moved slowly, making sure to swing my ass as I went. I heard a small, sharp intake of air on his part, and I smiled.

“Can you hand me the screwdriver?”

He did, and I unscrewed the coupling for the vent.

“The vacuum?”

He handed me the vacuum, and I sucked out all the lint I could reach, while he sat on the floor behind me.

I handed the vacuum back. Then screwed the vent on. I stuck my ass high in the air as I worked and made sure to take my own sweet time about it.

“I clenched my cunt around his driving cock as hard as I could.”

When I backed out of the tight area, I faked a moment of instability and sort of plopped into his lap.

“Sorry,” I said. But I wasn’t because I could feel his steely erection beneath my ass.

I didn’t move to get up but turned my head slightly. “Thank you for your help.”

He nodded; that was it. His eyes strayed to the front of my top again. I could feel how hard my nipples were. He reached up and stroked one with a fingertip through the fabric.

“I shouldn’t do that,” he said, but there wasn’t any conviction in his voice.

“I disagree,” I whispered. “I like it.”

I kissed his jaw and then his chin. His free hand moved up to cup my cheek, and he planted a proper kiss on my lips. After a few beats, he deepened our connection.

I sighed into his mouth and wiggled in his lap. I found his cock with my hand and rubbed it through the denim. “May I?”

“What?” he asked, eyes shut as I stroked him.

“Suck it?”

He sighed, and then nodded. When I moved off his lap to open his jeans, he groaned. I took him in hand at first, stroking him hard but not too fast. Then I moved my mouth down his shaft, making sure to get him extra wet. I sucked his cockhead and then dragged my lips down the side of his cock and tongued his balls.

His hand went into my hair, and he gripped it tight, pushing me down onto his cock. There was just a hint of roughness there, and it made my pussy gush. Josh might never have gotten laid, but he certainly had some experience.

I sucked harder and felt his hips drive up so that he could bury himself in my mouth and throat. I whimpered, and he growled.

“I want you to fuck me,” I said, pulling my mouth off him. I tongued the tip of his cock, tasting salty-sweet pre-come there. “Will you fuck me?”

He didn’t answer me. He simply moved and turned me fast, so I was on my hands and knees. He didn’t bother with any foreplay. Why? When he reached into my leggings and pushed his fingers into me, he found me beyond wet. He gathered up my moisture, and then he rubbed my clit with his slick fingers.

I moved against him and let him keep rubbing. My heartbeat was fast, my breath shallow, my head light. I came with a small cry that surprised even me.

I looked over my shoulder at him and smiled. “Do you like me?”

He nodded with a grunt. He had his cock in his hand and his eyes on me. “I’ve liked you for years. And I’ve jacked off to this fantasy more fucking times than I can count.”

It was news to me — and a bonus. I moaned as he peeled my leggings down and took them off. Then he was moving in close and fast, running the tip of his cock along my wet slit. He dipped into me, just the tip for a second, and hissed. I pushed back, impaling myself on him. He was watching; I could feel it in my bones. Of course he was. Was there anything hotter than watching a stiff prick slide into a drenched and willing woman?

His fingers pinched the meat of my hips. He surged forward, thrusting hard and fast. I let my body rock with the impact. My hair fell in my eyes, and I clenched my cunt around his driving cock as hard as I could. I found my clit with my finger and started to press and stroke. I wanted my climax to be fast, hard and intense.

I clenched around him again, and he cursed. His rhythm picked up, and he fucked me so hard he inched me across the laundry room floor. My fingers flew on my clit, and I felt my own orgasm rising fast.

He pressed his hand to the small of my back. The action angled me perfectly, so that his cock rubbed my G-spot with every invasion.

“Jesus, fuck me,” he growled, gripping my hips tightly.

I almost laughed, but his dick hit that tender spot deep inside me and I climaxed with a loud cry, my pussy milking him.

“Fuck,” he said again and came. His body bucked against mine, and I knew I’d have his finger marks on my skin for days.

When he dropped down beside me on the floor, I smiled. “Thanks for helping me today.” My joy at having taken his virginity was my secret pleasure.

“Anytime. At all. Sincerely.” He grinned. “Just let me know.”

Check out the Full Gallery