“Turn around, turn around, turnaround” I prayed again, but no such luck. She stood up (“Oh that ass, to die for”) and jumped into the pool. But I was not ready to give up, what jumps in must come out again. So I watched her as she swam one length after the other, her body only striped with her tan lines and her tiny red-and-yellow bikini bottoms.
I waited, as she swam breast stroke, then front crawl, a short attempt at backstroke, yes, oh yes, oh no! only to be given up after half a length, my binoculars like welded to the face as I followed her every movement. She looked athletic again, energetic, and full of life. And finally, my resilience was rewarded.
She swam at middle of the pool to the side. And then she did the oddest thing: she held on to the edge of the pool and looked up, right to me, right in my eyes… and started pushing herself out of the water. At that moment I realized: the sun had come around since the morning, the house was no longer backlit against the pool, and she saw me as clearly as I saw her, stark naked, behind a floor-to-ceiling window with raging hardon, and using binoculars to stare at her. And I realized that I did not care that she saw me, whatever the consequences would be.
She had a sly smile in the corner of her mouth as she looked me in the eye and pushed herself up with her arms, the biceps under her tanned skin flexing. And slowly, very slowly as if in slow motion, she moved up over the edge of the pool, displaying her tanned throat and upper chest, then the tanline, her fair skin skin below it and… oh, my god…. her magnificent breasts, round, firm, heavy, with goosebumps from the cool water, her areola large, pink, crinkled and crowned by hard nipples.
I stared at her wonderful melons, the droplets of water running down her throat, over her chest and over her breats. Her smile got wider as she pushed herself up, up until her arms were stretched, she stopped for a few seconds as if thinking hard, then she started beaming and….. I gasped… she pushed her lower body and head backwards, bending over backwards, pushing her magnificent rack out to me, bathing in my admiration.
She lifted one leg on the pool edge and stood up, as if nothing had happened, walked over to the sun lounger, her breasts standing firm and trembling only slightly, then reached down and toweled herself off as if nothing was the matter. She then lay in the sun to dry after her swim.
I had difficulties to breathe as I watched every line of her body, her gorgeous tits standing proudly even though she was lying on her back, her slim waist with the flowery garlands, her wide hips and the small bikini covering her lips just so.
I stared intently at that bikini bottom. The folds of her lips under the fabric, her pronounced mons rose steeply up from between her muscled thighs, and then sank slowly towards her belly; the bikini lay so smooth on her skin that she could not have been anything but shaved underneath the fabric.
After extensively staring her up and down, committing every fold, every highlight of her body to memory, I was just about to turn away (because I did not have the nerve to beat my meat in her full sight, but I needed to urgently) when suddenly I saw something odd.
She must have had cramps or something. Yep, there…. and again…. again…. it seemed as if her thigh muscles contracted, the contractions getting harder… and released again… and contracted… and released again… I wondered if she was ok, when suddenly she sat up (oh, gosh, those tits!), and then lay on her belly. Lay still a while… and there again…. her legs cramped up, every fiber of her thigh contracted, every fiber of her ass muscle stood out, oh gosh what a fabulous hard ass she had… and released again… and cramped up again… and released… I got worried until I looked at her face. She seemed not in pain, no, definitely not…. quite the opposite, actually, she had her eyes closed, a blissful smile on her face. But she cramped up again for a second or two and released again…
What really happened started to dawn on me when she propped herself up on one elbow, her hand found her breast, tweezed her nipple hard, released, tweezed, tucked, released, in the same rhythm as her lower body contracted, released, contracted, released and then her other hand disappeared under her body, found what it was fumbling for, her body became rigid, her eyes opened wide, her mouth opened for a scream……. and she collapsed on the sun lounger.
I stared at her in disbelief… had she just…. had she really just done that….. and nearly naked, in my garden…. she lay still, only light tremors running through her body indicated that she still was among the living.
I stared through my binoculars at her in disbelief…. her prone body now languishing on the deck chair, less and less frequently shuddering, her eyes closed…. Until she opened her eyes, and looked up at me, a wide brazen grin on her face. And while grinning, she poked out her tongue at me, all of it, long and pink and all out.
I stared back at her. ‘May the devil take tomorrow’ was my last clear thought before I exploded, her pink tongue exciting and as big as can be in my binoculars.
Fiona turned around and dozed in the blazing sun.