As Saturday strikes noon, Spring approaches Summer and the blossoms start to fall, Allie Everett decides that sunbathing season has arrived. So she takes her sunglasses, her sandals and her beach blanket, and she lays herself out in the garden.
Allie’s a tall girl, and so her legs stretch past the blanket’s length and out onto the lawn; green blade tickle her ankles, and she frowns a little. She’ll have to get her – no, wait, she herself is going to have to mow the lawn. Perhaps there were downsides to being single after all.
But a little overgrown grass isn’t going to ruin her day. She has no work, no plans and the beginnings of a tan, which will hopefully be improved by the time she heads back to the office. Saturday, Sunday Bank Holiday Monday, with sun predicted three days of three; plenty of time to have to herself.
See her stretch out, luxuriating in the warm weather. See the straight gold hair that fans out across her blanket, the sapphire eyes behind dark glasses, the pursed ruby lips. Look at the buxom swell of her chest, huge even when she lies on her back, so big you could imagine them falling back into her own face. How does she have so much chest yet such a trim stomach? Allie stretches her legs wide as she lounges in the light and her skin seems to glow, as if taking on the qualities of the sunlight it’s absorbed.
She’s being watched.
In the window of the house opposite, a young man stares. He’s eighteen and a virgin, with a girlfriend who loves to tease but refuses to put out. He is therefore, understandably, horny as a goat in the rutting season. He stares at Allie with a laserbeam intensity, his lust burning as relentlessly as the sun that shines above, but all he can think of is that it’s her who’s like the sun, dazzling to look upon. But just like the sun, she’s far away and untouchable.
His pants are down, his cock is out, and he pumps that teenage dick with a desperate intensity. Vivid images erupt in his mind’s eye, stoked by the vision of loveliness that lounges on the grass outside his window. Images of him doing to Allie the few things his girlfriend would let him do to her: Of kissing her, groping her, rubbing his throbbing teenage dick against the hem of her white bikini shorts, shorts so tight that he can see the outline of the heaven that lay beneath. He pumps to her tits and her hips and her lips, barely managing to keep his cock under control as he begs this heaven to last.
He pumps all the harder as Allie raises one leg and crosses it over the other, cursing as her bottoms are hidden from view, but marvelling at the long sensuous smoothness of those outstretched legs.
One of Allie’s sandals lies discarded on the ground but the other dangles from the tips of her toes, and in a sudden flash of insight he understands what the foot fetishists are going on about; looking at them, for a moment all he wants in life is to suck Allie’s toes like lollipops.
If only, he thought. If only. If only he had an excuse to be over there, and a way to catch her attention.
Maybe he does. He thinks it suddenly, the whispering thought giving him a jolt. Maybe, just maybe, he does. She was single now, after all. She was single and had kept the house. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to chores, and even from here he could see how the grass was getting long and the bushes unruly.
That’s what he’ll do, he decides. He’ll offer her his services, impress her with how handy he is, and then when they were done she will lean in until he could fall into her cleavage and thank him with warm breath in his ear for all his hard, hard work, and say that maybe there was a way she could show her appreciation…
Well. Who knew?
The young man’s thoughts spiral into fantasy as Allie soaks up sunbeams, crossing her arms behind her head. He dreams of blowjobs and titjobs and thighiobs, of running his tongue over every inch of his sexy neighbour, of putting every inch he has deep inside the treasure between her legs. In the theatre of his mind’s eye she’s besotted with him, moaning his name like a fanatic calls to god as he fucks her like a hero.
Of course, eventually some part of him remembers that he’s never gone beyond second base, would have to consult a diagram to be sure about finding the clitoris, and sometimes gets so overwhelmed at having his girl in his lap that he has to take a minute (and no more) to give himself relief in the bathroom. This doesn’t halt his fantasies, of course, but does rather cause them to take on certain “sexy experienced woman takes the lead, shows me how it’s done and makes a man of me” vibes.
What does halt his fantasies is her gaze.
Deep in his fantasy world Allie bounces atop him, tits rising and falling like the hopes of horny men, whispering sweet nothings about what a natural he is as he fondles her perky ass. His dreamself is going to cum on those tits. Once he’s done, once she’s done, he’ll throw her to the floor and fuck those big perky jugs until they’re smothered with his cum. But not yet. Not yet…
And as he jerks it desperately, moaning to himself, hips pumping needily as precum leaks from his tip, a rare cloud passes the sun – and his eyes snap back to the waking world. Down there is Allie, not riding him with the passion to break bedslats but removing her sunglasses to look out at the world with her shining blue eyes. Maybe she just took them off because of the shade…and maybe her raised eyebrow is a trick of the light.
But it seems to the young man that she’s looking straight at him. The spike of shock and adrenaline at being found out sends his heartrate through the roof, and excitement like that can have only one ending.
“Uuuugh!” He groans, his fantasies cut short in a blast of pleasure that becomes shame. He jizzes all over his own trousers, his boxers, the front of the windowsill, heart pounding in his chest, cumming so hard he thinks he’s gonna go blind. Next thing he knows he’s sat there gasping for breath before scuttling away from the window, moving to surreptitiously clean himself up as an awkward post-nut clarity strikes.
It says something about how his fantasies might really play out, he thinks, if that’s how he acts when Allie so much as looks at him. Maybe he should learn to walk before dreaming of marathons.
And maybe he should focus on the girl he already has before getting ambitious.
Allie heads inside.
A new day dawns in a ray of Sunday sunshine, cloudy for now but promising to end up even more glorious than the previous. Our girl keeps herself busy through the morning, hoovering here, doing dishes there, vaguely missing the convenience of having a partner to share the load with. Not too much, of course; he never did his fair share anyway.
By the time 1pm rolls around it’s me-time for Allie Everett. In shorts and a tee she hops on the bus, aiming to pick up a new trashy romance from the bookshop in town.
It takes her twenty minutes to get in, five to be sold on a new fantasy series by the girl in the bookstore, and ten more to organise evening drinks with her bestie later on. Coffee and cake takes up a little more time, but by half three she’s safely home and the clouds have cleared on schedule, so into the garden she goes. This time she strips down to her black and frilly underwear before padding out back in her sandals, a vision of Venus emerging from the sliding door.
She’s watched again, of course.
Not by the would-be playboy in the house behind, not today. He’s off on a date, playing footsie with his girlfriend while surreptitiously using his phone to look up sex tips for beginners. As he tries and fails to get past second base, however, another figure is watching.
In the house to Allie’s right, the main bedroom window offers a view into the neighbour’s garden.
The man who lives there finds himself staring, lucky enough to be cleaning the window while his wife is away. He finds himself staring as the gorgeous minx next door stretches languidly in the warm Spring breeze, feels his pants tightening as he takes in the sway of her hips. Lewd fantasies fill his mind as she descends her patio steps, tits bouncing with every movement. She reminds him of his wife ten years ago, her tits perkier and ass firmer than the woman he knows today.
It goes without saying, mind you, that his wife today looks rather more like her wedding picture than he does.
Allie turns and he shrinks back without thinking. His first thought is fear; what if she saw? What if she told his wife? She had forgiven his past… indiscretions, he knew – the ones she’d known about, and the ones she’d suspected. But wives and judges alike look down on repeat offenses.
And yet there’s no sign Allie has seen him. The blonde simply lies down on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air, cracking open her novel without a care in the world. He got lucky.
Or maybe, another thought occurs, she did notice. Maybe she didn’t mind.
Maybe she wanted him to see.
What would happen, he asked himself, if he went out into the garden? If he said hello? Well, he amends, he probably wouldn’t do it now. Girls don’t tend to like being hassled while they read; it’s a cliché for a reason. But perhaps one of these days he could contrive to be out there at the same time, or…
Well. She had just broken up with her boyfriend, hadn’t she? She was newly single. Hello Allie, so sorry to hear about you and, uh, whatever his name was, is everything all right? Here’s a cake Shelley baked for you, you know she felt so bad when she got the news. We’re always ready to help you with anything you might need, anything at all, it’s what good neighbours do, isn’t it? What was that? Why yes, of course I would like to come in for some coffee…
…And some cake.
It’s the cake that draws his attention, the outrageous junk in Allie’s trunk. So round, so shapely, like a great ripe delicious peach. The sort of thing he used to call a Dutch Arse, growing up. God only knew what the word was now, but he had a feeling that men had had words for an ass like Allie’s since the days they were living in caves, and would still have them once they’re living on Mars.
Meanwhile, Allie’s attention is on her novel. She’d gotten through the early scenes back in town, and now was just about reaching the juicy bits. You know the sorts I mean. The bits that get called ‘steamy’ in online reviews and come with words like ‘mewled’ or ‘throbbing manhood’. Perhaps not high-brow, Allie thinks with a smile, but who cares about that? Sex for the sake of sex was nothing to be ashamed of.
And oh, she’s having fun with this one. The girl at the bookshop knew her tastes well; having Vanessa with the blue hair call something ‘seriously spicy’ was a solid recommendation where Allie was concerned. As the male lead whips out an unrealistically-sized member, she feels herself heating up, and stretches luxuriously as the virginal heroine takes it with equally implausible ease. Allie grows wet as the scene heats up, her cheeks going red as the prose turns purple. Her legs rub together as her feet kick back and forth.
Ah, what a shame to be single. For all his flaws, her ex had worked hard at that. He’d known he had to provide the relationship with something. Unfortunately, what he’d chosen to provide had been something Allie could replace with a few quid off of Amazon and a fistful of batteries. He’d have had better luck learning to cook.
Still, it was nice to have a warm body doing the work. There was nothing quite like a living, breathing partner to get the motor running, even if an electric motor could give you the goods in a pinch.
Above her, the neighbour watches. He hungers to know what she’s reading, to know what’s going through her head. Does she know how sensual she’s being, how lusciously she stretches on the grass? She seems restless, even as her eyes remain fixed on the mysterious novel. Or perhaps this just how she is – something natural, an animal magnetism as passive and inherent as her physical beauty.
Either way, something about it screams to his male instincts. What a body! What a woman! What an ass! What he wouldn’t do to be down there, clapping those cheeks. Eating everything she has to offer and giving her all he has to give. Bending her over, feeling that rump in his hands, and taking her from behind like a wild beast. He’s an experienced man with a satisfied wife, he knows he can perform – even if he wonders for a moment how deep he’ll be able to get. He only has so much cock, and there’s all that ass in the way.
Whatever. If he has to switch to missionary, he can preach.
Eyes roving over her back, he thinks suddenly of flowers, of fruit, of the shades in nature that cry out: pay attention to me! Deep reds and bright golds, the dark hues of juicy blackberries. Colours that call the world that they’re ready, they’re blooming, they’re ripe. Come and get me. Come and pluck, linate, eat and spread me.
Come and take me.
But as he’s hyping himself to go, he pauses. Because then he thinks about wasps. About animals where those colours mean danger. That golden hair and the rich bronze of her tanning skin contrasts ain black silk, colours clashing like the hues of a threat display.
Reach out, they say, and get stung.
What if he’s misjudged, she doesn’t want him, and he bungles his pickup line? What if she wants concessions, something to keep her from having a quiet word with his wife after the fact? The nightmare scenarios swirl around in his head: Blackmail. Homewrecking. Harassment. Divorce.
Is she looking at him, from the corner of her eye? Does her gaze flicker over to the window where he watches? If yes, what does it mean? Is she waiting for him to come down and accept an invitation brazely given? Is she suspicious, uncomfortable? Tempting him into something he’ll regret?
There’s no way to know. And so he stands in the window unmoving, a living monument to indecision.
Monday finds Allie with bleary eyes squinting at the dawn: Never try to outdrink a girl from Glasgow.
She gets up late, showers fastidiously, and brushes her teeth twice to get the taste of aniseed out of her mouth. It takes water, coffee, painkillers and a fry-up before she begins to feel human again, and by the time she’s ready to face the outdoors, it’s almost noon.
Shopping to do, meals to plan. A quick text to the bestie to wish her a good holiday. The same lingering feeling of forgetting something that everyone gets when they leave the supermarket. A persistent tension in her frame, a latent horniness that’s been growing since yesterday afternoon.
There had been no time to deal with it. After sunbathing, dinner. After dinner, meeting Maisie and Dan for their holiday-eve drinks. Crashing to sleep the second her head hit the pillow. So it goes. And to add to it all were the hints, the playful texts from Maisie and the obvious glow on her pale white cheeks, the giggly chemistry now that the two were open about their knocking boots.
The annoyance, above all, that she could probably have snared the damn man herself had she not dithered on booting her ex. Oh well. Bygones.
Ultimately, though, Allie isn’t too bothered. A nice long session with Mister Good Vibrations, an equally luxurious stretch in the sun, and she’ll be right as rain.
That’s when she realises what she forgot at the store.
Batteries for her vibrator.
And so, as she lies down on the grass that afternoon, Allie isn’t as happy and relaxed as she possibly could be. She could just use her hands, she supposes, but it’s such a hassle. Instead she just throws herself down on her blanket, staring up through dark lenses at a sky as blue as her eyes. Arms crossed behind her head, one leg dangling over the other, thighs rubbing unconsciously in frustration.
Allie’s eyes are safe behind her sunglasses as she looks up to where the sun shines down and the scant clouds float. The air is crisscrossed with contrails, planes ferrying passengers to and fro; holidayegers off for a cheap May vacation, she thinks bitterly. Maisie will be on one of those; off with her new stud, probably looking for a chance to cross joining the Mile-High Club off her bucket list.
Some girls have all the luck.
A noise cuts into Allie’s awareness, causing her to turn her head. A low electric hum. It annoys her mostly by reminding her of what she doesn’t have; other than that, it’s almost unobtrusive. What could it be?
A leaf strimmer. Of course. Her own garden is getting a bit unruly too, now that her ex is gone. He took their own strimmer when he left, not that she misses it; it was a noisy, rattling, petrol-reeking thing. Her ex had seemed to think an engine didn’t count unless you could hear it across the neighbourhood – if they hadn’t shared a bed, Allie would have thought he’d been compensating for something.
The neighbour to her left seemed to have no such hangups. Feeling vaguely guilty about slacking on her own chores, Allie tries to put it out of her mind and succeeds surprisingly quickly; the noise soon fades into the background, just another note to go with the cars on the street and the squabbling crows that cackle in the tree two doors down. She closes her eyes and dreams of trysts gone by, wondering where on a Bank Holiday afternoon a girl can buy some batteries…
…And then the noise stops. Surely they weren’t done already? They’d barely even started.
Those eyes flick open again as an easyaging voice calls out, “Didn’t see you there. Sorry about the racket.”
A third neighbour has come to watch. His words are a lie, of course; not a malicious one, particularly, just a little white fib.
What’s he doing, this one?
He’d watched in interest as Allie emerged from her back door that afternoon, admiring the sway of her hips as she padded on sandalled feet into the garden, and had figured that an excuse to be in the garden would be no bad thing.
Allie smiles, eyes flashing behind dark lenses. “It’s no problém. Didn’t bother me.”
The man to her left has a dozen years on her first watcher, time enough to grow into himself. He’s a little younger than the married man to her right, and unlike him shows no sign of letting himself go.
He’s tall, dark-haired and dark-eyed, and Allie would rate him as passingly handsome. Handsome enough to have snared a rather sexy girlfriend and moved in with her, certainly.
The man smiles. The apology is genuine; if Allie had wanted to be left in peace, he would have given it her, switching off his tool to chore another day.
Instead, it’s a conversation starter.
“Obliged,” he nods. “Figured I should get some work done while it’s decent out.”
Allie’s responding smile is slightly embarrassed. “Wish I had your work ethic.” She admits, showing off her beach-model attire. It’s the skimpiest outfit yet, bright yellow against pleasingly bronzed skin.
Add in that deep blonde hair, and Allie looks like an art piece: A decadent display of varying shades of gold. The neighbour makes no effort to hide his attraction; not leering, but not ashamed to be caught enjoying what Allie happily shares with the world. As it happens, Allie finds she respects that more than awkwardness or denial.
She goes on: “But then, I work hard enough at the office. Sometimes it’s nice to enjoy life rather than be responsible all the time.”
The neighbour smiles. “True. But I owe it to Evie to do my fair share.”
“God! You could teach my ex a thing or two.” And oh, to talk to a handsome man like this while so pent up is getting her going – it doesn’t sound like she’s talking about chores.
He responds. “I could teach him to trim a hedge, too.”
Allie raises her eyebrows, and time seems to hang still.
The neighbour’s heart is pounding. There’s a little tension behind that easygoing veneer. It’s hard to be sure if this is friendly banter or joking flirtation or more, or if he’s reading the wrong signals.
Nobody ever does. Even Casanova had his share of slaps across the face. Even if things are going the way he thinks they are, would it be worth it, if Evie got offended he’d had a third without telling her in advance?
Of course it would. Because he knows that the best way to get something is to try for it, that you miss every opportunity not taken, and that it’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. So he waits, ready for anything, from offense and chilly silence and a word in the ear of his girlfriend all the way up to…
“Well. It certainly needs doing.”
That. All the way up to that.
For though Allie waves an arm across her garden, she purrs the words in such a way that he knows this is an invitation, she spreads her legs in a way that makes it obvious what it is that really needs doing.
So he goes to do it. He throws down the tool in his hands as another gets ready for business, easily vaulting the fence between him and his prize. Three steps eat up the distance between them, then he joins her on the grass.
She doesn’t ask about his girlfriend. As she said herself, sometimes it’s better to enjoy life than be responsible. In fact, she doesn’t say anything at all until he presses his face to her crotch and sucks at her through her bottoms.
And what she says is, “Oh, do that again!”
The neighbour knows what he’s doing. Even with the yellow fabric in the way, he sends pleasure rippling through her, from the ends of her fingers to the tips of her toes.
Humming to himself, his tongue and lips drag moans from Allie Everett, make her hump up at him and grind her pussy against his face. His hands go to her hips as he kneels before her, treating any other watcher to the sight of Allie lying on her back, bracing her sandals in the grass and humping up at the sky.
Are there watchers? What’s that movement in the window of the house opposite? Is there a shadow in the window of the house to the right? Could there be a disbelieving young man behind that curtain, cranking his dick like he’s just discovered porn, or is it just the breeze? Is that presence in the rightward house a man, jealous and embarrassed and stewing in his own impotence, or just a trick of the light?
And if so, why can neither of them look away?
The neighbour makes a move. He yanks Allie’s bottoms down and throws them aside, knocking away her sandals as he goes. Diving in he kisses her from the pussy down, trailing his lips down firm thighs, leaving lovebites on sleek legs. He kisses her elegant arches and sucks on her toes while his hands rub her soles with practiced motions.
Allie moans, not the needy moans of before but from the pleasure and relief of the massage, stretching like a cat while she smiles at his service. But they both know what she really needs, and soon he’s moving up, up, up again, resting at last at the cleft between her legs where heaven waits.
Now her pussy is bare to his tongue, to the strong lashes of his oral ministrations. Her lips tingle as he licks and sucks at her, tongue tireless, mouth greedy. She’s bare down there, completely; while Allie’s backyard might be au naturelle, her own body is smooth as silk. Her clit is engorged atop her naked vagina, and her new man homes in on it – not leaving the rest of her neglected, of course not, but making sure it gets a heaping share of blissful stimulation. It’s all Allie can do not to rouse the whole neighbourhood, to cuss so loud the crows flee in terror from their tree.
Her legs are wrapped ’round his head, now; he’s using her thighs as mufflers. With shaky hands, Allie reaches behind her back and pulls off her top, revealing those gorgeous knockers to the world. She lies back again, bare-chested like a local girl on a sunny Spanish beach, and begins to play with her nipples as her lover goes to town.
What do the watchers think, if watch they do? The fuming husband compares her tits to his wife, and it’s anyone’s guess if his joy at seeing them jiggle outdoes his jealousy. Who can say whether the horny young man watches in glee at the live-action porn show beneath him, or whether he cums with embarrassing speed the second his eyes see her chest. The only sure factor is the crows, who seem content to cackle in the branches.
“Let’s fuck.” Allie whispers. She could cum from this, much of her wants to, and if this is all he can offer she’ll take it gladly.
But it’s been too long, and she could really do with some cock.
So she’s pleased to discover that no, this is not all he can offer. He draws back, licking his lips and savouring the taste of her, his eyes feasting with equal wonder at her flushed cheeks and hard nipples and gloriously heaving breasts. His belt comes off, his pants come down, and out comes everything she could have asked for. Allie’s not a size queen, not particularly, but a big, girthy member is hardly unwelcome.
So welcome it she does, spreading herself wide for his entry.
The neighbour pushes home. The swollen, bulbous head of his cock seemingly dwarfs her entrance, but some act of sexual magic lets it slide in like a dream. Then he thrusts, and that’s where the real magic happens.
“Ooh!” She purrs as the man bottoms out inside her. That’s the good shit. That’s deep. That’s what Allie needs, that delicious full sensation that only penetration can give, and that pleasure that heightens every time he slams his big cock home. The blonde bombshell sighs joyously as her neighbour goes to town, slow and steady, with no sign of a rush.
He grins the grin of a man getting just what he wants. It would be hard to do this while scowling, after all. But there’s no panic or neediness or any other warning sign on his face. He’s hard as a rock and he’s gonna stay that way for a good long time. His control is perfect, even as Allie pumps her hips up to match him, spurring him into going faster.
“Come on, big man. Put some back into it.”
She doesn’t need to say it twice. The man drops down onto her and gets going, faster and harder, sliding almost all the way out from her before slamming his dick back in. All four limbs wrap around him and cling tight; hot breath pants against his ear. She curses joyfully, a cavalcade of fucks and hell-yeses telling her lover that he’s on the right track. The smell of suncream and perfume and gorgeous female in heat bless his nose and mouth as he kisses Allie’s neck and buries his face in her long blonde hair, pounding away until her sunglasses start to slip down her nose.
In time, they fall away completely, and she curses for a different reason while squinting at the sun. Her man draws back, and spends a time sucking those delightful nipples while massaging her aching clit. They catch their breath for a minute or three of fondles and squeezes, and then it’s back to the pumping.
He bears down and down on her, striving to get ever deeper inside. The position evolves from missionary into what pervs on the internet call a mating press, her legs sticking out past his head to curl toes in midair. Now, Allie is hardly visible at all, the wide shoulders and heavily planted bulk of her lover blotting her out, denying even a view to any jealous watchers beyond. And still his thrusts are steady, for all their quick pace. A thing like this is best done right, after all. If you’re going to take a risk, commit.
He does it so right that her glasses fly off again. Another curse, another fumble, and Allie starts to laugh.
“Let’s change it up,” she pants, “Do it this way.” She gets on all fours and presents herself, hair falling down past her to brush the tall grass, and if she angles herself to give a better view to any window-watching others, well. There’s nothing wrong with putting on a show.
It’s definitely a show her lover appreciates, the wiggling of her ass sending primal thrills through his brain and cock alike, but he wonders how long they can keep this up. Evie will be back at some point, a neighbour could walk out, someone could knock on the door…He can finish up fast, if he has to.
But until Allie’s done, it’s not an option. He’s committed to this fuck, and knows he has to see it through no matter what.
And so the guy from the house to the left mounts Allie Everett like a stud mounts a filly. There’s a lot of ass to get past to push in deep, but thankfully he’s got a lot of dick to push with, and with hard, determined strokes he soon fills Allie up again. The sound of his hips against her Dutch Arse fill the air with slapping sounds, and they both gasp for breath as they work themselves to exhaustion.
Sweat falls from them, from his brow to her back and her brow to the ground, and Allie wonders for a moment if they’re going to give each other heatstroke. The idea makes her laugh, though it’s hardly audible through the groans.
Then she whispers an instruction. “My clit.”
She’s busy keeping herself upright, and in all honestly, they probably will be exhausted, not to mention dehydrated, if this goes on any longer. One hand reaches round and rubs her, and as the breeze washes the pair with petals and the scent of flowers, Allie’s pleasure begins to build to its crescendo.
She’s not the easiest girl to please. Simple enough, sure, but she takes a while. She doesn’t need toys or special positions or incredibly specific kinks. All she needs is a half-decent dick, tongue, or finger.
But she needs them for a good, long while to nurture her pleasure into the golden glow of orgasm. Between her horniness, her lover’s oral skill and the hard, deep fucking, she’s gotten to the finish line a little faster than usual, had one hell of a lot of fun along the way, and has the feeling this is going to be a climax worth remembering.
Closer. Closer. Come on. Here it comes, feel it building, grind against his hand and throw it back against his dick and think of nothing but the orgasm, focus on it, bring into being-
And there it is. After all those curses and moans you’ll be surprised to see it’s a quiet thing, a lip-biting thing, a whimpering thing from lungs that can’t suck in the air to scream. It’s sweat and a few tears dropping to fall between blades of grass, hidden from view by falling blonde hair; it’s arms slumping and sticky brow meeting the ground as that fat ass juts upwards; it’s momentary incoherence as thought is replaced with bliss.
And then it’s done, and it is indeed one to remember.
Her lover slows, and takes a moment to find his breath. Wiping his brow, he looks down on a job well done and smiles, an expression Allie mirrors at the floor. He can’t see it, but he hears it in her voice as she manages to say,
“Where do you want to do it?”
Anywhere he wants, within reason. She’s not sure her ass could handle all that, but anything else?
Inside, outside, down her throat or on her feet or whatever else struck his fancy. When you’re hard work to please, you’ve got to be gracious when a guy manages it.
“On your tits.” He says, his words full of barely contained need.
Allie finds herself flipped over, but not before one last squeeze of her ass, followed by a slap that rings out in the hot Spring afternoon. Then she’s looking up at her exhausted yet triumphant lover, whose lovely cock is twitching so much she’s surprised it hasn’t blown already. Keeping a lid on it for her sake, huh? Can’t say she’s not appreciative.
To show that appreciation, Allie clambers to her knees. Her big fat knockers swing as she approaches, giving her lover time to appreciate their fullness, their firmness, the large nipples that crown them before she sandwiches his cock in the valley between them. It’s his turn to moan now, crooning needily as she bounces them up and down, his hips pushing at her. No rhythm now, none of that steady pace, just a desperate pumping between the two great cushions that are his neighbours tits as the pressure builds and tingles in his tip…
…and hits the point of no return.
“Allie!” He groans as the dam breaks, as that quicksilver bliss shoots through him, as the joy of completion knocks him for six. His brain blanks as surely as Allie’s had as all he can focus on is his orgasm, and maybe it’s just sun sickness but something about cumming between those gorgeous boobs makes his head spin until he fears he’d going to collapse. But Allie holds him still, takes all of it, lets her tits be covered in rope after rope after bountiful rope for what seems like forever, until at long, long last her man is milked dry.
She lies back on her blanket then, and blows him a kiss. He nods, and after a minute or so, he finds the strength to vault the fence again.
Feeling rather pleased with herself, Allie crosses her arms behind her head and takes the time to catch her breath. The clouds are coming in, the weather showing signs of turning in the coming days. Gracious of it to let her have the weekend, she supposes. Her eyes trace the contrails of airplanes and she feels no jealousy now, and in fact rather looks forward to swapping tales next time her and Maisie head for drinks.
After a while, the leaf trimmer starts up again. Her neighbour still has work to do, but the pride of conquest blossoms in his chest and puts a spring in his step that makes the choring pass like a dream.
It takes him fifteen minutes to pull himself together, by Allie’s watch. She’s proud of that.
She’s also proud of catching the two perverts who had been watching her sunbathe. The young peeping tom on Saturday; the married one on Sunday, who should have been old enough to know better. Men: They think they’re so subtle.
As Allie lies there, more beautiful than ever, flushed and sweaty with post-fuck hair, dirt on her knees and grass stains on her feet, she wonders if they were watching today. If that movement at the curtain, that shadow at the window really were watching the two of them get it on.
Does that kid across the way understand now what it takes to be the hero of his fantasies? Did the married perv to her right seethe, watching someone else have the balls to live his dream?
A grin spreads across her pretty lips as she imagines it. Satisfaction tingles in her limbs, and hot cum cools on her perfect tits. Allie Everett smiles.
She hopes so.