Early mornings usually found Missy on her front porch tending her plants. She loved the porch, it was secluded, and with all the plants she had, she thought it offered good privacy from the street. As well as the plants, the porch held two wicker chairs with soft cushions and a small in a cozy arrangement. She had just got off the phone with her husband Bill, had set her cell phone on the table, and was trying desperately to hang a basket of flowers. She had just finished watering and was doing her best to remount the remaining flower containers.

"These darn hook thingy's," she grunted, straining to connect plant hook to ceiling hook. Her half t-shirt slid upward, exposing the bottoms of her full breasts to just below her perky nipples. Her short-shorts, strained tight in her groin showing the split between her firm bottom cheeks and clutching snug around her pussy lips. The muscles in her legs, defined from the stretch, flexed and rolled with her moves. She had decided against shoes that morning wanting to admire her pretty pink toenails. She stretched on bent toes but was just a little too short to put the hooks together.

She happened to look through the opening she was trying to fill with flowers and saw a tall black man walking by. "Mmm, he's really good looking." She murmured and stopped what she was doing, clenched her thighs together then squirmed her hips to contain the growing warmth in her groin. 'I'll bet he's about fifty,' she thought...