Mrs. Smuthersbum (A NAUGHTY MILF EROTICA STORY) (PLEASURED BY SEXY OLDER WOMEN HOT SHORT XXX STORIES Book 1) by LUSTPEN & FIBBWORTHY

Author:LUSTPEN & FIBBWORTHY
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2021-06-09T00:00:00+00:00

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“Not again…” He muttered to himself, standing outside in Mrs. Smuthersbum’s fenced backyard. Loads of shrubbery, plants and grass decorated the area.

The older woman had one hand on her hip, smiling over at the hunky lad, nodding as she eyed him with a lusty stare.

“Perfect!” Came her enthusiastic reply, beaming with pride. In her other hand was a somewhat small, but imposing-looking riding crop. She wore a crop-top shirt, showcasing her toned stomach and a pair of tight yoga pants. These accentuated each desirable inch of her bum and lower body, which was every part of that delicious figure. Atop her head was a sunning hat, and a pair of sunglasses rested on her nose.

With the hot sun overhead, Hardd squinted, reaching for a set of large garden shears located on the sturdy picnic table several feet away. He was naked no longer. In fact, he appeared to be wearing another rather unique set of work clothing. Those belonging to a gardener of sorts.

A pair of denim overalls, no undershirt, and yes… the crotch had been cut out of these as well. Given the immense heat radiating down from the sun, his already sweating sack of goods hung low and free between his legs. As he picked up the garden shears, Mrs. Smuthersbum lifted the riding-whip upward in a quick motion, tapping it against his balls. She raised one eyebrow in a playful fashion, then gave him another bop in the gonads.

But, with her perky tits on display, Hardd was focused elsewhere. He didn’t notice the dull zing of pain riding up into his stomach following those several whaps in the testicles.

“Start off with the hedges, darling,” Mrs. Smuthersbum barked. “I want them trimmed nice and short.”

Then, just as before inside the house, Hardd set off in a frenzy of passion – cutting, snipping and… butchering the greenery.

You see, he’d never so much as bagged a single leaf in his life. Never cut a blade of grass, and never watered a single flower. For as clueless as he’d been scrubbing the kitchen grout or dusting a bookshelf, he was even worse at outdoor labor.

This meant Mrs. Smuthersbum’s whip lashed out frequently, with precise aim and great gusto. Each time she did so, like when Hardd was hunched forward trying to even out the backside of one hedge, he would emit a loud shriek (somewhat from the stinging sensation and partly from the shock). So intense was his concentration at trying to accomplish the task and return to his promised fucking, that each and every smack of the riding crop came as a true surprise. He didn’t expect it, not once! Without having a clue whether his efforts were good or bad, or if he was on the right track with a trimming, he had no way of knowing. Though, soon after so many whappings and tappings from the whip… he began to anticipate a sharp sting essentially every time he moved the shears.

“Lower!” His overlord howled. “You must cut them

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