Ben
I live at the end of a long country lane in a house sandwiched between two others. On the left is a summer/weekend home of an executive for a biotech firm in a near-by city. On the right is a house that belonged to a wonderful couple named the Wilsons. They had a beautiful daughter Angie who was home from college for the summer at the time of these events.
My house is a modest, one-story rambler painted green. A few years ago, I was up in the attic replacing insulation when I noticed I could see out of the attic vent at the end of the roof gable right into the Wilsons’ back yard. Normally the eight-foot wooden fence screens our yards from each other and keeps their small swimming pool relatively private. After that, I have to admit, I was guilty of sneaking up to my attic to watch them on occasion. There is something exciting about watching scantily clad people in the pool when they haven’t a clue that they are being watched.
Most of the time nothing much ever happened when I spied on them. I remember one time seeing Fran come on to her husband in the shallow water. She had pulled the top of her suit down and teased him until he quit swimming and followed her into the house. Another time while she sunbathed with him she reached over and started to stroke him off. In a few minutes she had his attention and proceeded to give him a blow job. I have to admit, for a forty-two-year-old woman, it was nice watching her from my gable.
However, after a few visits to the attic, I tired of the sport. After all, how many times can you watch people playing innocently in the pool before you get bored? Even with Fran’s escapades, the routine began to get a bit old.
On one summer day, all of that changed. Although we were neighbors, we weren’t particularly close friends and there could be days or even weeks between our encounters with each other, usually at the mail box or while doing yard work. I was surprised when Fran told me Angie was coming home from college for the summer. Apparently Angie had no summer job lined up because after two brutal years in her STEM course work, she decided she needed to unwind and relax.
I saw Angie from a distance a few times early in the summer and I have to admit, she had matured into a very cute young lady. I didn’t think about her much until she had been home for nearly a month. I was working in my back yard in mid-July when I heard Angie’s voice come from the other side of the fence. I never could see her as their fence was both a physical and visual barrier protecting their pool.
“Afternoon, Mr. P. Whatcha doing?”
“Oh, Hi, Angie. Look, you can call me Ben. Mr. P. makes me feel old.”
“But you are old,” she laughed, “Just how old are you?”
“Getting close to where I could’ve been your daddy.”
“Wow. Thatis old,” she laughed again. “Sounds like you’re busy over there.”
“Yeah, I’m digging for a new foundation for a garden statue I bought last week,” I replied.
“Well, don’t get a heat stroke or a heart attack, Old Man. I’m going to keep cool between sunbathing sessions by dipping in the pool.”
“Sounds nice. Wish I had one on days like today, but the upkeep is a drag.”
“Yeah, well, Daddy has a pool guy come by.”
“Nice. I’ve seen him. You think he’s a good-lookin’ guy?”
“Oh, he’s OK, but he’s dumber than shit. I couldn’t go for him. You know what they say: After intercourse, discourse,” she laughed, “And he could never engage in any meaningful discourse.”
We chatted about her college classes and her major for a few minutes before she told me she wanted to get back to sunbathing.
“Say, Angie, do you know what today is?” I asked before she went back into the pool.
“Yeah, it’s the hottest day of the year, so far.”
“No, really. Know what holiday this is?”
“Uh, fourteenth of July…Hmm…” she muttered before coming up with the answer. “Oh, yeah, it’s Bastille Day, I think.”
“What?”
“You know, kinda like our Fourth of July, except for the French.”
“Oh? I didn’t know that. Anyway, that’s not what I’m referring to. Care to guess?”
“I’m sorry, Ben, I have no idea. What is today, anyway?”
“It’s International Nude Day!”
“International Nude Day? Who came up with that crazy idea?”
“I don’t know. I heard one time it may have even started in New Zealand. Anyway, are you going to celebrate?”
“Since I had never heard of it, no, I had no plans to celebrate.”
“You should. You could sneak one of your dad’s brews and cool off by the pool.”
“Oh, I’d be too nervous, I think.”
“Why? You’ve got a perfectly private backyard and pool. No one will ever see you and you can celebrate by yourself.
“I don’t know. Probably not.”
“You should, Angie, and I promise I won’t peek,” I laughed. “Have fun.”
“Oh, maybe I will,” was all I heard before a resounding splash. I figured she must have jumped into the pool. It was brutally hot and I decided I really did want some iced tea. Drinking a beer in such heat was not a good idea, particularly if I was going to keep working on the foundation.
Inside the house, I cooled off a bit in the AC and my thoughts turned to Angie. At her high school graduation a few years earlier, she was one of the best-looking girls there. As I drank my tea, I thought it would be nice to see just how attractive she truly was and whether the intervening years had been good to her. With this in mind, I decided to go up into the attic and check her out.
My seat behind the gable vent was a bit dusty, but the view was as I had remembered it. I could see all of their back yard, the patio and the pool area. Shortly after I got there and sat down, Angie pulled herself up from the pool. My, oh, my, had she grown and in all the right places! No one would ever call her stacked, but she had the right curves where they were needed. She walked with the assurance of a remarkably mature young woman over to her towel, dried off her hair and shoulders a bit and went over to the lawn chair. After flattening it, she stretched out on her stomach obviously in order to sun herself. With a quick flick of her fingers, she undid her bikini tie across her back.
Imagine if you will a beautiful girl, on her stomach, her buttocks facing you and suddenly, she appears to have no top on. Although I couldn’tsee anything that unusual, the thought of watching her sunbathing without her knowing she was being watched started to turn me on. I was mesmerized by the sight. Every few minutes she would stir a bit, wave at perhaps a fly I couldn’t see and turn her head from side to side.
I was about ready to leave my perch when I thought she undoubtedly would want to sunbathe her stomach, so I waited a bit longer in the heat of the attic. My patience was rewarded a few minutes later. She languidly rolled over, faced me with her sunglasses pulled down over her eyes. Her bikini top still covered her breasts, but just barely. She reached over to her bag and pulled out some sun cream. I watched her as she started to apply some to her face and shoulders. The slow strokes were entrancing. Suddenly, I had a desire to be twenty again so I would have a chance of applying some cream to her shoulders for her.