I pedaled a local daily newspaper during 1958-60, my last two years of high-school. Every other Saturday afternoon I'd "collect" my route. And I was a horny seventeen year old boy at the time this experience occurred.

Mrs. Smith lived in the two-story yellow house on the corner behind the football field concession stand. Her husband had died five or six years earlier, her sons were grown and gone, and she was alone now. She'd always treated me nicely, and had always paid her newspaper bill on time.

On this particular hot Saturday afternoon in July she invited me into her foyer as she hunted for her newspaper payment card. Her house had A/C, quite uncommon at the time, so I was more than happy just to stand there and cool down for a few minutes.

Mrs. Smith was a vey pleasant 50-55 year-old somewhat chunky lady with a nice smile, and a very friendly "mom-type" manner. I'd never really thought of her in a sexual way, but I surely did this day. Mrs. Smith had very large and pendulous breasts that were on that day covered only with a thin but tightly-stretched man's sleeveless white t-shirt. I never seen them with such clarity, and I'd never seen her bra-less. The t-shirt clung to her so snugly that it seemed she was almost naked. It was tight enough to clearly display her large nipples and her almost saucer-sized areolas. Although she was still searching the dining room chest for her payment card, what I'd seen in the foyer had instantly hardened my adolescent penis so much that it had poked its way through the fly in my briefs and was now tenting my satin baskball shorts directly...

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