The next morning she came out on her back porch to do laundry in a washing machine that was stationed there. She was wearing only a transparent half-slip the waist of which was pulled up to serve as a top over her big round boobs which were braless. Thick dark nipples stuck out invitingly. When she bent over to take out clothes from a wash basin on the floor I was gifted with a mouthwatering sight of fat pussy barely contained in an orange thong that glittered. After each of the two washing cycles was completed and she leaned over into the machine to get clothes to put on the line I was again treated to some classic pussy flashing. I knew she was tempting me, and wondered how far she was prepared to go. As she hung out clothes to dry I sauntered into the yard shouted a ‘good morning’ to her; she looked over at me and gave me the first real smile I’d ever received from her. I saw her glance a couple of times at my tented shorts.
The following morning it was raining heavily. She opened the back door and came out onto the porch in a short transparent nightie with boob cups that barely kept her beauties in. she stood on the porch for a while then walked out into the pouring rain with a can of something in her hand. She walked to a storage shed in the yard which she opened and deposited the tin. By the time she got back to the porch she was soaked to the flesh, the nightie literally pasted onto her. She ran her hands along the front and sides, sliding water off. I and my cock looked at her in amazement. She walked towards the door and just as she entered the kitchen her hands reached to the hem of the nightie and she began to raise it up over her head, giving me a brief but wonderful look at her big ass in red boy shorts panties before she disappeared inside. I was hoping she would turn back to close the door and give me a look at her bare boobs but she didn’t. So you like to tease, I thought, I’ll show you and dare you to up me.
A little before midday I saw the help leave, presumably, judging by the time, to run a quick errand at the shop. A few minutes later Savitri came out on the back porch and sat down on a little cane stool facing my back door which I had deliberately left open. I had earlier taken a bath and was lurking around for the past half an hour waiting for an opportunity to present itself. Because of what I had in mind my dick was in a puffed up state. I added to its irritation by giving it about two dozen strokes, bringing it to almost full erection, while looking at savitri from behind a blind at the kitchen window. I then picked up a bath towel and walked into the kitchen pretending to be drying my hair. I headed straight to the back door and stood there rubbing away at my head, my cock hanging almost straight out bouncing from my deliberate contractions of the controlling muscles. I peeked out from the towel and saw Savitri jump up off the stool and her hand fly to her mouth as she stared wide eyed at the little seven by six monster. I remained there for about one minute before turning around and walking back into the kitchen. Just before I turned around I saw her hand drop to her front and squeeze her crotch, but she quickly pulled it away. At no time did I remove the towel enough to be seen clearly looking at her. Let her guess if I had seen her.
Half an hour later I heard my phone ring. When I put the receiver to my ear I heard a soft voice say:
“You like to show off.”
“You too,” I replied.
“No I don’t, if you think so it’s all in your head you’re misinterpreting things.” She hung up.
Next morning I was in the yard early, tending to my garden while keeping my eyes on lookout for my buxom voyeur partner. She didn’t disappoint me; she came to the open back door wrapped in a towel, hair dripping water. Without sparing me a glance she looked down at the towel as if checking to see if it was wrapped properly. She then untucked it from above her bust, opened it wide as her hands could stretch, then slowly bring her hands back in, wrapped her body and tucked the towel in tightly over her bosom. She then looked at me smiled, stuck out her tongue and calmly walked back into the house. That brief vision of big hanging boobs, smooth fleshy belly, round thighs and jet black thick but neatly trimmed pubic hair was a masterpiece in waiting to be immortalized by a Rubens.
After that day, now confident that our voyeurism and teasing was mutually enjoyable, we both dropped all pretenses of accidental flashing and went about delighting each other with our naked bodies whenever we got the chance. I would stand at my bedroom window or my back door stark naked with a hard cock and let her feast her eyes. Sometimes I would stroke or shake it at her causing her to giggle. She would go into her kid’s bedroom which was in line with mine, to dress or undress after leaving the windows open and pulling up the blinds. Or she would leave her back door open while moving about in her kitchen naked; sometimes standing in the doorway as she let her hands caress her boobs or crotch. From time to time one or the other would call and we would chat for a few minutes. She never let our talks be long, because her husband called regularly to check if she was at home; he was extremely jealous she said. During those times I would ask her to let us meet somewhere and have sex, but she said she was afraid to take it that far.
One Sunday night shortly after her husband had come home drunk there was a lengthy bout of cursing and hurling of abuses between him and the two women which culminated with him beating both of them as the children screamed. The cops later came and took him down, but he soon returned home, no doubt due to the influence of his family.
I only saw Savitri fleetingly the next day, and when I called she would not answer the phone. The following morning she ventured out on to the back porch wearing only a white vest, stretched out by her curves and bulges, and barely covering her ass. I waved at her and she responded with a half-smile and hurried back inside. She seemed ashamed to look at me. I called her right away, but the phone rang out. I called again and again and she answered on the third call. I told her that I wanted to see her and talk to her, suggesting we meet at the supermarket. But she said she couldn’t do that, for fear of being spotted by nosey neighbors. I told her that I was going to come to her house. She pleaded with me not to do that because someone might see and her husband gets to know about it, but I could sense that she was considering it, after all she didn’t say she didn’t want me to come to her, the issue was really about her husband finding out.
After she hung up I went to my bedroom and rummaged in a drawer. About a month ago I had got me some Cialis tablets. I was under no delusions; at sixty three accidents could happen suddenly. I wanted to be prepared; I wanted to ride that filly long and hard if given the chance. I popped a pill in my mouth and went to take a bath. Half an hour later I called her again. She picked up the phone on the second ring. Sometime back she had mentioned that they were having some electrical problems and being I was fairly adept at that kind of work I had offered to take a look, but she had refused the offer. I suggested that I could come over under the guise that I was there to do work. I would have my tool kit and some other equipment in my hands so anyone seeing me would not read anything into it; especially since I am an old man I said. That coaxed a laugh out of her and after some more pleading she agreed to chance it.