New Release: Mrs. Johnson and the Girl Next Door

The cougar is in heat…

The summer’s here and there’s nothing this experienced MILF loves more than feeling the sun’s rays on her skin. And Mrs. Emma Johnson isn’t afraid to bare it all because what she has, everyone wants. Next door, an innocent coed named Valerie is home and when she finds who’s suntanning just over the fence, new, dirty thoughts and feelings start to come into the light.

Mrs. Johnson gives Valerie a little show when the younger woman won’t stop drooling over her tight body. But Mrs. Johnson isn’t going to stop there. She is going to teach the coed what it means to fully submit to the older woman, and they’re going to leave red-hot marks in and out of the house before the sun sets.

This 6500 word, futa-on-female, first time, spanking, voyeur, oral, submission, MILF, coed, neighbor, public erotica is for mature readers only. It also comes with a free excerpt from another sexy tale!


Mrs. Emma Johnson threw open the curtains, letting the July sun pour in through the tall, glass windows. The world outside was quiet, but the suburbs were never noisy. The whole neighborhood was constructed in a way that would fool photographers for decades on end. The same sidewalks running up and down the lane. The same palm trees gently wafting in the breeze. The same model houses, row after row, repeating in a pattern of Mediterranean, Colonial, Tudor, Colonial, Mediterranean over and over as far as development dared to go. Take a picture in 1996 and compare it to one taken in 2006 and put them side-by-side with the 2016 photo. Provided the gardeners were doing their job properly, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Emma would agree with her colleagues when they said that her neighborhood was a blight on the city’s face. But she didn’t love living here because it was a quiet life. Far from it. The more spic-and-span the front of your property looked, the more secrets you kept behind closed doors. Gossip. Wine stains. Naked, hungry bodies. Legs spread open in the desire to be filled. The people were dirty. Those private betrayals and indecencies slept under the snow of winter, only to reemerge again, still alive and looking for blood, in the spring. And it was summer in the suburbs.

Summer for Mrs. Emma Johnson meant hanging up her college professor hat for two months before reporting back for duty in September. Summer meant young men and women wearing as little as possible in their hormone-induced fever for the opposite sex. But most important of all, summer meant relaxing.

Her oblivious husband and her useless stepson both worked during the week, which left her with plenty of alone time. Being alone meant more time to think, and more time to think meant being bored.

She breathed in the dark scent of her morning coffee as she looked down into the backyard. The pool, reflecting the blue of the sky overhead, called to her. There was that new pair of sunglasses she picked up the other day… A quick search through her closet for her most revealing swimsuit and a thorough application of sunscreen later, Emma stepped outside, feeling the intoxicating blast of warmth on her skin. It was like a relaxing breath, blowing across her body from head to toe, loosening every muscle along the way.

Almost every muscle.

Something inside her bikini bottom stirred and hardened, but it was held back. So early in the morning? Emma smirked. She would have to take care of that.

A pool float shaped like a hot pink flamingo bobbed on the water’s surface. She thought back to the time she forced the “man” of the house to buy it for her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have the money to buy it herself, but it was so easy to make her husband bend. She only used the flamingo for one picture. It received a decent amount of attention, but she never figured she would use it again.

She sat down and pushed her and her vessel away from the edge of the pool with her foot. The flamingo floated towards the center of the pool, and Emma laid back. She looked down through the dark lens of the sunglasses and admired her own prodigious bulge stretching her bikini bottoms to their limits. It was a beautiful cock. She ran a finger from her balls to the tip of her shaft, and it sent a shiver of anticipation that scrunched her toes.

That’s when she saw movement coming from the next door neighbors’ backyard. The two households had always been good friends, and last year the sturdy fence between their two properties was torn down and replaced with a shorter steel one with plenty of gaps. Emma saw through these gaps now, and learned that their neighbors’ college-aged daughter, Valerie, was also home. The young woman was kneeling in the dirt of the neighbors’ garden, de-weeding the arrangement of flowers.

Valerie was a Renaissance woman, as Emma remembered. An excellent scholar. A decent athlete (which was obvious at first glance thanks to the tank top and the short shorts). Into hiking and travel. Even dabbled a little bit into the arts of sculpture and modeling. Emma liked an ambitious young woman, but that wasn’t the only reason she kept watching the coed.

With her sunglasses on, Emma was free to stare directly at the beautiful young woman. And Valerie just couldn’t stop glancing over at the older woman wearing nothing but sunscreen and a bikini in the swimming pool next door.


Naughty girl, Emma thought.

Valerie’s gloved hands were barely moving with half of the effort they had before. Emma spotted her wiping a sweaty strand of hair out of her eyes. Presumably to get a better look.

The older woman appraised her from afar. Maybe Emma had been reading one too many romance novels. Or watched one too many porn videos. Valerie didn’t have to be interested in her. The college student might have been disgusted because she was showing so much skin. Emma knew that the neighbors attended church regularly, so it made sense for the daughter to have the parents’ beliefs.

But no. Emma knew the look in Valerie’s eyes all too well. She saw it in her students, the college freshmen and sophomores especially who sat in the front row. She saw it in every waiter (and some of the waitresses) who had ever had the pleasure of serving her in a restaurant. It was a look of lust.

If Valerie didn’t look away now, there was no way she was going to finish the rest of the yard work. So of course Emma had no choice but to take it one step further.

She reached behind her, and undid the tie that kept her bikini top securely in place over her breasts. With a flick of her wrist, the top flew over the pool and landed squarely on the seat of an empty pool chair. Her generous breasts, freed now from their prison of fabric, basked in the light of the sun as much as the rest of her was.

Emma could hardly contain the smile when she saw Valerie drop the spade she was clutching in her hand. The metal head of the tool clattered against the cobblestone floor. Valerie scrambled to pick up the spade, and like the good girl that she was, went right back to work. Emma could hear her internal screaming. How could I be so obvious, she probably asked herself. Now she knows I was watching.

You’re mostly right, Valerie, Emma thought.

Try as she might, the college coed couldn’t keep herself from sparing herself another look. And another. When was she ever going to get a chance like this, after all?

To Emma’s disappointment, she watched as the young woman suddenly jumped to her feet and ran inside the house. She heard the back door open and close with a slam, the young woman forgetting all of her manners in her haste.

Emma was about to give in and paddle back to dry land when Valerie reemerged. This time, sporting a big pair of aviator sunglasses. It was all Emma could do to keep from laughing. And they say a college education isn’t any good these days.

She would have to be rewarded.

Emma’s hands drifted down her curvy body to the ties on either side of her bikini bottoms. With two, curt pulls, the ties were undone. Emma watched Valerie’s neck crane just slightly, desperate for a better look.

Emma was going to let her hidden, suburban secret do the rest of the work for her. For the first time since setting eyes on the college girl, she stopped watching her and transitioned into admiring her. Spry legs that wouldn’t look out of place on a dancer’s body rose up from the worn hiking boots. The legs led to an ass that walked, squatted, and knew every other butt exercise in the book. Valerie had a cute tummy–it wasn’t completely flat, but there was more muscle than love handle. She was a woman who knew when to indulge, and when to work. A woman after Emma’s own heart.

Emma’s favorite thing about fucking women was pushing down on their stomachs to stimulate their G-spots from the outside. Get the angle just right and you’ll be on their mind for… Well, until you do it again.

She imagined doing this to Valerie, laying her down and taking her in the neighbors’ garden. Her cock thrusting in and out of her nubile body. Valerie always called her ‘Mrs. Johnson,’ and that’s what she would moan when she was being fucked.

Emma’s fantasy worked fast. First, the bikini bottom merely twitched. Then it unfurled. Emma exposed herself to Valerie as her full, hard length rose from her pelvis. She became very pleased with herself when she saw Valerie bite her lip.

Even if she had sunglasses on, there was no doubt that every ounce of attention was being sent to the sexy older woman next door. The older woman who had a cock bigger than any of the college boys who fruitlessly sent her nudes. She wanted nothing to do with those jokers, but in the house next to hers was a queen.

Emma reached down, and parted her lips when the soft, moisturized flesh of her hand met with the rigid member between her legs. She stroked herself with slow, loving strokes. It didn’t do very much for the professor–she like it rough, after all–but this was about putting on a show for the young woman lusting for her.

She played it up. She moaned loud enough for Valerie to hear her. She arched her back and cursed as her fingers played with every agonizing centimeter of her big, hot rod.
Emma saw Valerie’s thighs shift. The flowerbed was all but forgotten.

And as Emma’s hand moved faster, gripped harder, and as her legs went over either side of the pool float and disappeared under the water, and as her moans became more like bestial growls of desire… she stopped.

Mrs. Emma Johnson paddled the flamingo float back to the water’s edge, gathered her things, and disappeared inside the house.

Liked it so far? Read the rest of the story here (for FREE with Kindle Unlimited)!


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