This was more like it, I thought when I saw her open her door the fourth day at around 10.30. She wore daisy dukes and a spaghetti top. Nothing too tight or too short, just a pair of cut-off jeans, but definitely more adapted to what she visibly had decided was today’s program again: sun, fun and nothing to do, and that in my garden.
She must have taken a couple of days off from work. Good for her, nothing better to build you back up than soaking up the sun and an occasional swim……
The halters of a bikini top were tied behind her neck, sandals, a large sun hat and dark sunglasses completed her outfit. She had a big woven bag with her and crossed the street. O gosh, her thighs looked fabulous in the sunlight. After several months of abstinence, she looked even hotter than I remembered. It was already very hot outside, but that was not why I felt a sudden heatwave. She was on her way back to her sexy, sassy self…. Wow, I decided that I would definitely work from home until my family came back.
I stood partly behind the curtains on the first floor when she came around the house to the garden side. Yep, she did a beeline to the deck chair and unpacked her bag. Oh man, that ass and those thighs. She bent forward and laid out the towel on the deck chair. I felt how I got hard in my board shorts.
And there, yes, she bent forwards and pushed her daisy dukes down…. Ahhh, shoot, the bikini bottoms were a sort of a boy short. No matter, her ass and thighs, so hard and defined. She was definitely on her way back….. I licked my lips. My dick was hard as a steel pipe and got uncomfortably stuck in my shorts.
She pulled the top over her head, yeah, the bikini top matched the bottoms: maximum coverage and comfort, but still, her tits looked great. Then again, they probably would look great in anything, as firm and big as they were. ‘Come on’, I thought ‘free the puppies’… but she turned around, oh wow!, her back and shoulders looked fabulous, hard, defined and already with a light tan.
But what was she doing? She undid the halters of her bikini top on her neck and dropped the top…. ‘Turn around, turn around, turn around’ I tried to hypnotize her, in vain, she kept on looking to the end of the garden. She reached into her bag and brought out a bottle of sun oil, squirted some on her hand and…. ‘Ohhhhhh, oh god, she is oiling up her breasts’. I could not see anything except her back and arms, but the movement was so obvious….
I yanked out my dick and rubbed it furiously, the thought of her hands kneading her flesh brought me near to the edge, her full breasts squeezed and caressed, her flesh pressing against her oily finger, her hard nipples plugged with her fingers.
She took a long while to apply the oil to her front, enjoying the hands on her breasts and dreamily staring into the trees, standing in the bright sunshine and feeling the heat of the sun beating down on her exposed skin, but it was much too soon that she pulled up her top again and tied the halters on her neck. And then she started oiling the rest of her body, arms, face, neck, back, all started to shimmer with oil under her caressing hands.
Yes, she really enjoyed this, I could see it from the slow, dreamy movements and from how thoroughly she spread the oil all over her body, everywhere, every swell and every recess. I could not see anything indecent, but I saw that she caressed herself everywhere, all over her body, kneaded her flesh, touched herself. The sun of the last few days must have woken her spirits again.
She even pushed her oily hands down the front of her bottoms. Oh! how much I wanted to help her with oily fingers. She slightly shuddered…. I was so close to coming when she rubbed her thighs, first the front, then the back, her fingers working her flesh, her skin all shiny by now.
And then her oily hands went under the back of her boy short, massaged the oil into her ass cheeks and for a second or two, her naked cheeks flashed creamy and untanned at me. Her oily hands kneaded them, squeezing them, pushing them apart to oil her dark crack, and pulling the short back up. I exploded. With a bull roar, I shot my load against the window pane.
She looked up. Had I been so loud? I was in the house, certainly 30 meters away from her, but she still had heard or felt something. I had to sit down to not faint, my head was spinning and my knees were wobbly. Had she seen me, in my excitement? I had no longer been behind the curtain and she had said ‘I don’t want to see you’. Then again, she was in bright sunlight, the house was backlit by the sun and it was in the shade inside the house. So certainly not. Maybe her female instinct had felt something? She lay on the deck chair, took a book and started reading.
Had she done it on purpose, was she playing with me? She must have known I was watching, my car was out front, and she expressly had “allowed” me to watch as long as I staid invisible. Not knowing that I was there was impossible. But then it dawned on me: for the time being, this was her pool and garden, where she did what she liked and she wanted to benefit to the max from it. She had put me out of her mind and or pretended I was not there. Probably…… Hmmm..
Shortly after, my dog came up the lawn, long tongue dangling from his mouth, close to a heat stroke. He had staid with her as long as he could tolerate the heat, but it really was incredibly warm outside.
I opened the garden door and he slipped in. He blew a mixture of hot dog breath and coconut oil into my face. Oh gosh, he had been licking her. The thought made my head spin.
From that moment onwards, things took a rapid turn for the better and the following days were very exciting. My deceased mother would have had a stroke if she had seen what I used her mother-of-pearl decorated theatre binoculars for. But for a distance of roughly 30m, they were perfect and brought Fiona in all her glory much closer to me.
She must have felt better and more secure, because a day or two later, she exchanged the boy shorts bikini against one that was more suited to her figure: a yellow and red slim cut bikini that she seemed proud to display when she arrived at the deck chairs around the pool.
She pushed her spaghetti top up over her head and made sure to meticulously adjust the bikini top. Nice gesture towards me that she did this facing the house. Her hands adjusted the two triangles that were never intended to cover both her full breasts.
The top would have gone through in a public pool as just about tolerable bordering the insolent, but in my garden, it created a wonderful stage for her fabulous orbs. She made sure the triangles were right in place, pushing her breasts up, smoothing the fabric with her hands, tucking here, pulling there a bit.
Oh, yeah, she gave herself a pleasant touchy-feely and to her audience of one a wonderful show. It culminated in her checking the bow at her neck, “accidentally” pushing her firm globes together between her strong upper arms. This was not just a morning routine of getting ready for a day at the pool, this was clearly a show for an audience and the audience stood gawking with a pair of small binoculars, enjoying that she had found back her joy of life.