Spunk Mouth

After I hopped the fence, I followed her over to the filter,
adjusting my bathing suit in a completely futile attempt at
hiding my interest. As she bent over, it became difficult for me
to focus on the filter; the blue bikini bottom slipped a little
further into the crack of her cheeks. Gallantly, however, I
peered over her shoulder (ok, ok, occasionally I snuck a glance
at her impressive cleavage) and paid attention. After moving
around her, I looked at the pressure gauge, which was way too
high, and cleaned out the trap, which was clogged with bits of
leaves and grass. As I kneeled to screw the top back on the
trap, my dick, which had wilted enough to move around, slipped
down along my leg. Karen, who had bent over (that cleavage
again!) to look at what I was doing, didn’t seem to notice
anything. However, as I tried to shift my member around and it
hardened in reply, she seemed to catch on and smiled a bit.

Karen’s eyes popped open and quickly found mine. She looked
a little startled, but also a little pleased. She got up and
came over to the fence, giving me a _great_ view of her breasts,
which were pressing together due to their confinement. I felt my
dick harden in response. Then, she mentioned that their pool
filter was acting up and that she didn’t know how to fix it.
“Would you be willing to take a look at it?” was said with a
perfectly innocent look. I readily agreed, hard-on or no
hard-on.

Anyway, I heard the Karen’s door open and shut, followed by
the sounds of the chaise lounge scraping on concrete, which soon
quieted. I set down my brush and pot of goop and went over and
stood on the diving board, which gave me a view over the
cinderblock fence. Karen was lying out about ten feet from me,
at an angle, facing towards me, her eyes closed. I felt
stirrings in my pants as I took in her long, tanned legs, the
string bikini covering her pubic region, her flat stomach, her
glorious breasts accented by the bikini top, and the cloud of
long, blond hair around her face. Rather than have her catch me
staring, I called out “Looking good,” also unusually bold of me,
given how she and my mom talk together.

On the day it finally happened, I had the day off. My
sister, mom, and dad were all at work. It was hot, about 110,
but there was little humidity, as we were in Phoenix. I had gone
biking early that morning, returning at 7:00 to see Karen looking
good in a knee-length robe. She whistled at me in my biking
shorts, the first indication I’d ever gotten that she was
flirtatious; uncharacteristically cocky, I flashed her a smile
and wiggled my rear at her, yelling out “You want it–come get
it!” She laughed and went back inside, her hips swaying from
side to side. I wheeled my bike in the garage and stretched
down, thinking of her.
Later that day, I was out in the back yard “painting” the
fence that hides the pool filtration stuff. Because I was
“painting” with a clothes-hostile mixture of linseed oil and
turpentine, and because of the heat, I had taken my shirt off,
leaving only my old, faded bathing suit on. The other advantage
to the bathing suit, of course, was that I could jump in the pool
whenever I got too hot (as, shortly, I was going to get).

For almost three years now, I’d had a unfulfilled fantasy.
Last summer, that fantasy was fulfilled. Karen and Dave are
next-door neighbors, both in their mid twenties. Karen is in
good physical shape, even though Karen and Dave have three young
children. She has blond hair, large breasts, a flat stomach,
fairly wide hips, and a lovely, heart-shaped ass. Believe me,
I’ve enjoyed the fact that my bathroom window gives a view of
their back yard, complete with Karen laying out in a skimpy
bikini. Dave is built solidly, with lots of muscle. Though I’m
only 20, I can’t compare to him. However, Dave flies for one of
the airlines and is often gone for a week or even more. That is
actually what my fantasy centered about. While a three-some
would certainly have been enjoyable, I had often thought about
Karen and I having an encounter when Dave was gone.