The Riley Boy

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Marissa Weiss very much enjoyed her mid morning run. On that Monday, her trainers pounded the smooth, black asphalt of this suburban residential street, one of a vast network in her upper middle class neighborhood. Mature oaks, poplars and sycamores spread their generous canopies over lush, well tended yards, creating a forest in the outskirts of Atlanta. The road wasn’t anywhere near flat, with hills and dips that challenged Marissa to pound harder. She loved the exertion, her well toned frame taking the topography in stride. It wasn’t a race, but Marissa had her own standards, and as her watch beeped, she knew she was right on track. Summertime in Georgia was no joke. The day was already reaching the mid nineties at just shy of ten in the morning. Marissa panted and gasped up a particularly steep incline, her eyes to the ground as she worked her way up. You wouldn’t think it to look at her, but this had become her favorite part of the run. At the crest of the hill, Marissa stopped and paced in circles, hands on hips, chest heaving with every quick, panting breath. She’d stopped in front of a gorgeous Colonial style home. A wide, square-columned, covered porch invited residents and guests alike to take a break in any of its several rocking chairs. A magnolia anchored the left side of the house, cleverly hiding the driveway and garage. Flowers rioted in a number of beds from the porch to the street. It was a lovely home, really. Still, it wasn’t the architecture that held her attention. On the right side of the house, a work area had clearly been set up. A wheelbarrow held a mountain of smooth river rock and bags of soil were neatly stacked out of the way until needed. Tools were strewn in piles. Marissa smiled just a little as she peeked surreptitiously from behind her mirrored sun glasses at the very well built man, currently shirtless and wielding a pick ax. The Riley boy. His name was Benjamin Thaddeus Riley. He was the son of Maggie and Don Riley, who lived at the house she currently stood before. Everyone in the neighborhood knew him as Benji, or the Riley boy. Growing up, he’d been very industrious, collecting lawn jobs from anyone who’d give him a chance. Marissa and her family had moved to the neighborhood when he’d been sixteen, and had enjoyed about a year of his service before he graduated high school and went off to college. That was four years ago. He’d been home every break, helping his parents, working on projects to supplement his chosen career. Benji was studying landscape design. He had single-handedly designed and installed all of the planting beds in his parents’ property. He was a truly impressive young man. Marissa watched his strong, muscled back glisten in the hot sun as his arms bunched up and swung the pick ax again and again. Her pulse quickened and her core throbbed just a bit, as illicit thoughts of those muscles moving in entirely different ways invaded her mind. She couldn’t see his face, but she imagined it taut with concentration, his jaw tight, air whooshing in and out through clenched teeth as he plowed her roughly against the side of the house, just behind the cypress tree. “Good morning, Mrs. Weiss.” A startled gasp was Marissa’s reply as she came back to the present from her wicked fantasy and found Benji standing at the curb, a bottle of water in each hand. His smile was genuine and almost entirely wholesome. A little gleam in his eye was the only indication that he’d noticed Marissa’s deep blush, made darker still by her recent exertion. Clearing her throat, she smiled back and said, “Good morning, Benji. Hard at it again today, huh?” He nodded, then offered her a bottle and tipped the other back into his mouth, taking a deep draught. His throat worked, and his Adam’s apple bobbed with every gulp, and Marissa couldn’t help but admire every inch of young, hard flesh on display. She was sure her lips were slightly parted in awe as he finished his drink and wiped his gorgeous mouth with the back of his hand. Gesturing şişli escort with his head, Benji said, “Would you like to come sit on the porch for a bit? I was going to take a break anyway, and it’s really hot out here. You look like you could use a little break.” She could have said no. Probably should have. Instead, she smiled and nodded, and followed Benji up the lawn to the inviting shade of the porch. It was nearly ten degrees cooler under the overhang. Benji sat in one of a pair of rockers at the end closest to the garage. The shade was deeper here, the large magnolia creating a partial screen from the street. It was by no means private, but an illusion of separation was evident. A ceiling fan spun lazily overhead. Marissa sat in the other rocker, then cracked the water bottle open and took a sip. In truth, she wasn’t at all in need of a break. She could have easily finished her run, then done the abdominal set she had scheduled for today. Her perverse side, though, couldn’t say no to a sit down with Benji. Every day it went this way. She’d try to come up with stern reasons why she shouldn’t sit with him, yet she’d always relent. Benji was her addiction. He had always been a perfect gentleman. Never crass, always polite and staid. Funny, sure. Marissa thought of it as innocent. He exuded a kind of innocence that, along with his devastatingly good looks and impressive physique, drew her like a moth to a flame. It didn’t matter that she was married, that she had two children away at summer camp, that she was twenty-three years his senior. Nothing seemed to matter when she was with Benji, except him. It worried her sometimes, but not while she was with him. He smiled and asked, “So how’s your run today, Mrs. Weiss?” Marissa pursed her lips and tsked. “Benji, how many times have I told you. Call me Marissa.” He chuckled. “My mom would kill me, Mrs. Weiss.” “She doesn’t have to know, does she?” Marissa smiled. She enjoyed teasing him about his propriety sometimes. “How are they, by the way?” Benji grinned. “Talked to them last night. They’re in Singapore. They’re really enjoying their trip. I think they’re headed to Thailand, then China and Japan, before taking a ship to Hawaii.” Marissa leaned back and crossed her legs, lightly rocking. “That sounds so adventurous. Your parents are amazing, hon. Will they be gone all summer?” That grin flashed again, and Marissa could have sworn she caught something just this side of wicked in the gesture. “Yeah. Another six weeks. Plenty of time to get that bed done. It’s a surprise for my mom. She loves tulips. I’m going to set a ton of bulbs for her, so next Spring she’ll get a very pretty crop of them.” “Aww, Benji, that’s so thoughtful.” Marissa took another sip of her water, then set it down on a short table. With a teasing smile, she said, “You planning on having any wild parties while they’re gone?” Benji, chuckled, looked down at his lap, then up, catching and holding her eyes. It was a penetrating stare, and Marissa suddenly felt very warm and a little breathless. He smiled a knowing smile and said, “Maybe one.” Marissa looked away, down, pressing her lips together and trying to calm her response to what she was sure was a guileless comment. Her nether region was tingling, and she wanted to stand up, sit on Benji’s lap and show him how she was feeling. It was pure insanity. She panicked. Marissa stood in a quick, awkward move, her hands smoothing down the sides of her tight running tank and over her very brief, airy running shorts. She could feel a definite current of need coursing just beneath her skin. “I should go.” She smiled nervously and looked in Benji’s general direction, not meeting his eyes. “You enjoy the rest of your day, Benji.” As she turned to face the porch steps, Benji’s hand wrapped around her wrist. She stilled, looked back at the connection, his big hand making her wrist look delicate. Sparkling firecrackers of sensation burst up her forearm and into her shoulder. Marissa mecidiyeköy escort took a deep breath, her lips slightly ajar as she looked back at him. He wasn’t smiling, his eyes intense green pools that dragged her into their depths. “You’ll come back tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question. Benji’s gaze burrowed into her, sending delicious current streaking through her, into her belly, deeper still. Marissa couldn’t believe everything he was implying with the quiet demand. The gentle caress of his thumb on her sensitive skin drew a quiet, strangled moan, and Marissa felt her folds flood. She nodded and he released her. Marissa felt like a hare running from a cunning, determined hunter as she took the porch steps two at a time and jogged her way to the street. She refused to look back, but felt Benji’s stare until she turned the next corner. The rest of her run was disjointed and unfulfilling. Her heart was beating too fast, and her breathing came too quickly. Adrenalin and endorphins crashed through her blood stream, making her muscles jittery. Worse, her little clit piercing kept catching the seam of her shorts through her sheer thong, tugging her already aroused nub into nearly painful sensitivity. She was needy as hell when she finally made it home. The kitchen door was unceremoniously slammed shut, and she bypassed the fridge with its bottled water. Kicking up the stairs, Marissa barreled into the master bedroom and stripped. Everything came off. Finally naked, she stepped in front of the full length mirror. Her entire body was flushed and covered in a fine layer of sweat. Peaked nipples adorned her full, well shaped breasts, and the blush around her hairless mound was darker than anywhere else. Biting her lip, Marissa spread her legs and touched herself, gasping at the first knowing touch of her eager fingers. Her other hand caught a nipple and twisted it as she slicked her nub with her copious fluids, then began swirling around the sensitized flesh. The little silver piercing glinted with every revolution of her finger. Marissa watched herself touch and arouse. She moaned as her fingers found their way into her sopping wet channel. Her jaw went slack as she thrust deep, fingers curling and pressing against that perfect spot. Again and again, Marissa thrust and pressed, gasping and moaning as she watched the wanton woman in the mirror become a needy slut. She wanted to be fucked. Needed it, like she needed air. Closing her eyes, Marissa imagined it was Benji’s fingers, his hand on her tit, driving her mad. She created his voice in her head, encouraging her with filthy suggestions, fantasizing about his hard, insistent cock pressing to the curve of her ass, promising her the fuck of her life if she would only come on his fingers. “Fuck!” she cried out, as she felt that glorious edge approach. Marissa wanted to prolong the sensation, to live in that flashpoint, teetering on the brink of ultimate satisfaction. She didn’t have the control for it, though. Not then. Her fingers worked furiously, squelching noisily into her dripping pussy, her other hand rubbing feverishly at her pulsing little nub. She couldn’t stop it. Marissa came on a groaning exhale. The intensity doubled her over, bringing her to her knees in front of the mirror as waves of pure bliss blinded her to everything around her. She gasped and moaned, grunting with every contraction. Her fingers had mostly lost their rhythm and now just moved to prolong the delight. Eventually, she slumped over, pressing her cheek to the carpeting, her arms trapped beneath her heaving chest. She was entirely spent, and yet, her pussy pulsed, eager for the promised fuck, even if it was only in her mind. Some time later, Marissa stirred. She knelt up, extracting her sore arms from beneath her body, then pulling her fingers from herself. She was a mess. The image staring back at her in the mirror didn’t even look like her. Feeling guilty, Marissa looked away. How could she still want more? Sighing, she made her way onto her feet, then gingerly padded into the bathroom. She wasn’t entirely sure what would happen tomorrow, and she felt entirely powerless to stop it.  ***   Tuesday felt like it would be another scorcher. Marissa focused on breathing with her steps, trying to keep her growing anxiety from tripping up her progress. She could already tell that she was running faster than usual. Butterflies flapped insidiously in her chest, her abdomen, making her feel vaguely sick. It was an odd, not entirely unpleasant sensation. She’d considered altering her route, so she wouldn’t go by the Riley house. There were a million different ways to make up the mileage. She didn’t ever have to go by that house again. She never had to see Benji again. Marissa came to the turn for his street and wasn’t really surprised when she took it. ‘What the hell am I doing?’ she thought to herself. Marissa thought back to the day before, to the look in Benji’s eyes and the way he’d gripped her wrist. She didn’t think she’d imagined the blatantly carnal stare. ‘I could be that boy’s mom!’ Sure, at forty-four she still looked great in a tight little black dress, but she knew better than to encourage a twenty-one-year-old. All of that, on top of which she was married. Was she really going to cheat on her husband with the Riley boy? Her thoughts whirled in her head, fueling her screaming muscles and her burning lungs up the punishing hill. At the top, she stopped and leaned her hands on her knees, panting heavily. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her mind was a noisy storm of lascivious thoughts, recriminations and emotion. It took her a few minutes to catch her breath. When she could finally speak, she mumbled a quiet, “Fuck,” before she realized she wasn’t alone. Benji was standing at the curb, a bottle of water in one hand. Shirtless and glistening with sweat, he wasn’t smiling. The look in his eyes melted her core instantly and quieted all of the conflicting voices in her mind, save one. All Marissa could think of now was having him. She walked to him slowly, and when she stood not a foot away, she held out her hand. “Can I have that?” Her voice sounded smokey, sultry. She wasn’t entirely sure it was her speaking. Benji shook his head. “After.” Marissa’s next words came out in a breathy whisper. “After what?” She felt like she was drowning, unable to get enough air into lungs that were no longer interested in working. She watched his face change. His lips curved up into a dark, wicked smile, while his eyes remained depths of potential depravity. Benji reached out, wrapped his hand around her wrist and tugged her towards the house. Marissa’s heart tripped in her chest, and she darted looks left and right, imagining all the surrounding neighbors peeking through their blinds at them. The thought of being seen only fueled her already rampant need. He went for the porch, taking the steps two at a time. Marissa struggled to keep up with his longer, faster gait, then gasped as she was bodily turned and pressed to the hard brick of the house. Benji leaned in, hands pressed to the wall on either side of her. His rough jeans rubbed against Marissa’s thighs, making her tremble with anticipation. She felt his breath on her ear and inhaled his scent. It was nothing but arousing. He smelled of soap, sweat, dirt and irresistible man. “I’ve been thinking about this for days.” Benji nearly growled the words, his biceps flexing strongly as he leaned in further and rubbed his bare chest to Marissa’s tight top. He nipped at her earlobe, drawing a surprised gasp from her. “I know you want this, too.” Marissa’s head was swimming. The desire to take what was being offered was so great, and yet her conscience was still trying to make an argument against it. Squirming against Benji, she uttered a quiet mewl and said, “God. Shit, Benji…” She gasped again, this time as his mouth lay claim to her throat. His teeth nipped and his tongue licked at her dewy skin. Marissa moaned and tilted her head, baring her neck to his ministrations. “We shouldn’t. It’s not right… fuck!” Benji’s hands were on her thighs, his fingers trailing slowly up. “Spread your legs, Mrs.

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