It was a fair size lawn and I was only half way through it when she returned.She asked if I’d like a drink and brought out some coke. “You’re ge...ting on well, it really needed cutting didn’t it?” I agreed, drank some coke and started back mowing. There was quite a breeze and she was outside on her patio moving pots and stuff about and every now and then a gust would blow up her short skirt and I’d get a flash of panties. She was much too old, but my cock was getting harder with each flash. The. After this situation, gradually her behavior towards me changed. Usually, she was a little reserved type as she would wear her dress properly and won’t talk to me too much. But now things changed. She often calls me to her home to have a chat, started to wear deep neck maxis and blouses inside home when I was at home. She now sits close to me, even touches my thighs, cheeks and all. All this while, I will be suffering to hide my hard on, which has become so often. One day she found me ogling at. As you pass by a mud hut a little back from the road, you take fire. Everybody with so much as a slingshot returns fire. You do that while you are getting the hell out of there. After you have been at the outpost for a few hours, a patrol comes in to tell you they found two bodies in the hut.So you know that somebody killed somebody. You also know that you were throwing rounds downrange, but did you kill anyone? That is hard to say. If you want to be a hero, then sure you killed them all by. Would it? And people don't get tumors in their ankles. I was pretty sure they didn't.But if I wasn't dying, it had to be somebody close. Mom, or Dad, or Traci. They all looked good. Traci couldn't be dying; she went to a dance last night."You haven't touched your food," Mom accused."Sorry, I was thinking." I picked up a fork, and started pushing food around my plate."We need to have a talk."Something about the way she said that made me think she'd used the wrong article. Not a talk, The Talk..