Australian Penthouse

A few years back, I used to work a one-man garbage route in a fancy, upper-class suburb. I always took real pride in my work. I kept the bins nice and neat, and never left a mess around the trash area. Once in a while, one of the  homeowners would compliment me on my work, but you can bet it didn’t happen often.

I used to see a lot of the things that went on in that wealthy suburb. I noticed the courier van that parked for an hour in front of the same home every Friday, while the driver was obviously dallying with the lady of the house. I saw bored housewives rendezvousing with their contractors, landscape gardeners or pool cleaners. But it never happened to me. Most of the women didn’t want anything to do with me; after all, I was just the low-life garbo.

Then, one day, midway through my Wednesday route, I stopped in front of a big house on a dead-end street. It was like 40 degrees out, and sweat was dripping down my arms and chest. I opened the lid of the wheelie bin, and the first thing that caught my eye was a porno DVD, still in the box. The title was Older Women, Younger Guys. I also spied a pair of pink silk undies lying next to the tape. I looked up at the house, trying to see through the windows, but I couldn’t see anything or anybody.

The next Wednesday, when I got to that house again, I lifted the bin lid to find a pair of cheap, black high heels and some pink nylon stockings. Now I knew something was up, and my heart started pounding. I looked up, and this time I saw a beautiful blonde in the window. She must have been about 40 or so.

She signalled for me to wait, and a minute later she came out of the house. She was nice and tanned, with a voluptuous figure. She was wearing a tight top and black silk running shorts that were so snug I could see the outline of her pussy lips.

“You do a terrific job out here, young man,” she said. “You’re the best I’ve seen—you’re so fast, and really neat.” I thanked her and told her I appreciated the compliment. “You can call me Jean,” she said. “It’s really hot out here, would you like something cold to drink? Follow me.” So I did, staring at that gorgeous arse swaying back and forth in those tight shorts. My dick was rising very fast.

Inside the house, she led me into the kitchen and went to the fridge, deliberately bending over to look inside. The shorts stretched over her behind and I could make out the crack of her butt. When she didn’t straighten up after a minute, I knew she knew just what she was doing. I moved in close and bent my head down to her cheeks. I could smell the musky aroma coming from her, and I loved it. When she still didn’t move, I practically buried my nose in her perfect arse.

“Do you like the way I smell?” she said. “Want a closer whiff?” And without bothering to straighten up, she pulled down her silk shorts.

I found myself staring at the nicest bum I had ever seen, firm, tanned and naked. I got down on my knees and ate her out with force, sucking her pussy and clit. I then licked her arsehole and fingered her hole until she came all over my smiling face.

After that, she sat me in a chair, knelt in front of me and sucked my dick until I shot down her throat. She greedily swallowed it all. Then she told me she would see me next Wednesday. For three months, I saw her every Wednesday, and we did everything you could possibly imagine to each other. Then she moved away, but at least for those three, sex-filled months, I no longer had to envy that bastard courier.

-Dave, Glebe, NSW

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