Lying on my hammock, listening to the soft singing of the cicadas in the trees, I swayed in the cool spring breeze that was making the white, dogwood blooms dance overhead.
Far above those white flower-laden trees the clouds were sweeping past, not fluffy and innocent cotton candy clouds but angry looking clouds. Off in the distance I heard a rumble that promised the rain they had said was soon to come. Within an hour or so I would have to go inside, but for now the approaching storm was just enough to drive away the muggy late April heat. It also helped carry off some of the far-too-sickeningly-sweet honeysuckle smell of the blooming shrubbery. The tall hedge was yellow-white with the flowered vines. The hedge that separated my yard from my neighbor's.
Ah, my neighbor, Sharon.
A more beautiful woman I have never in my life seen. Her hair was like sun-burnt corn, it shown golden in the sunlight, giving her head a gilded halo. When she looked at you her, eyes were the waters of the swimming hole I spent half my youth at. Warm and dark blue on top, but underneath they were almost cold. Cold and with a half-hidden darkness that could pull you down into those cold unimaginable depths. Those eyes hide things. Secrets. Secrets I would have loved to know. But then I had my secrets as well.
She didn't recognize me when she moved in, but there was no reason for her to but I knew her though. We had gone to the same school. She had been prom queen, head cheerleader, most popular senior. Me? I had been just another of the trench-coat-wearing, cigarette smokers on the corner. No one for the likes of her to remember.
She had grown in beauty since school. But even then she had outshone the girls around her.
Now?
Now she was a goddess.
A goddess with a flaw.
I smiled when I heard the soft music from her open window on the other side of the hedge. "You could almost set a watch by this woman," I thought as I adjusted myself in my sweatpants. I strained my ears to listen past the sounds of the bugs and the sound of the music.
Startled, I blinked as a lightning bug blinked right in front of my nose. Smiling, I lifted my hand and snagged him from the air, old memories of catching and putting them into jars lending my hand old skills. I opened my palm and looked with the same delight I had felt as a child at the little black bug walking across my palm. His lighted tail winked at me. As I watched him walk towards my thumb, he gave me a few more blinks, and then opened his wings and flew off into the night.
I grinned thinking the story he would have to tell his wife.
That grin grew as, in the growing darkness, I heard the low, soft moan of a woman lost in the throes of passion. I wondered, as I listened to her, if she was even aware of the pattern she had fallen into. Masturbating at the same time every Saturday night, like a clock.
Now, like most of the houses around here, my neighbor Sharon opened her windows at night during this time of year to save on the power bill.
Listening to her moan, I relaxed into my hammock and enjoyed the throaty sound. I turned my head more towards the thick hedge that hide me from her view. The honey suckle smell was beyond perfume. It was nearly obnoxiously sweet.
I heard a second deeper moan.
Looking between the flowers I could make out flashes of light from her side of the hedge. I wondered absently if the bug I had caught was among those flashing. I took hold of my cock as I listened to her moaning. Soon those sounds would be coming quicker and quicker together. Low moans, soft gasps of pleasure. Clockwork. I wondered what event in life has her locked into this pattern of Saturday night self-pleasure. My mind had played through different scenarios, but I was sure none were right.
So many years had passed since the last frantic days of high school. That mad scramble to get yearbooks signed by people you would never see again. I knew without looking that her name wasn't in mine. I didn't have the courage to ask her to sign it back then.
I slipped my hand quietly up and down my cock listening to her. The shaft was hard and the skin slid silky through my fingers. The idea of how silky her skin must feel passed through my mind. The sounds from the window, only feet away beyond the hedge, grew in volume. The tone changed to a more demanding pace. I stroked myself faster in response. A flash of light pulled my eyes, not bugs this time, but true lightning. The rumble of thunder silenced the cicadas. The breeze stopped suddenly. The wind chimes on my porch grew silent. I heard deep throated begs for pleasure from her now. Demands for sexual gratification really.
I wished, as I stroked my cock, that I had the courage to go knock on her door and offer to satisfy those demands. Those and any other she might have in mind. Hell, I would have worshiped at her feet if I could make her cum just once. My fingers, tongue, and cock would have been all hers to command. Her moans begin to become whimpers and I had to suppress the desire to join mine with hers. I knew if I did that, and she heard me, she would stop and these magical nights would end.
Opening my eyes, I watched the lightning bugs by the hedge blinking their frantic codes, probably looking for their lover's light pattern in the darkness. I smiled as for a second I wished it was that simple for me. Then the absurdity of my ass flashing a light to attract a woman distracted me for a second.
The breeze returned at that moment, stronger than before. The smell of the hedge disappeared and the scent of rain began to fill my nose. I looked up at the sky, but then I heard her all but scream out her passion as her pleasure peeked. My distractions had me off pace with her, and I tried to pull on my cock all the faster hoping to cum while my ears were straining to catch those last few panting moans. I was so very close to coming.
So very close.
A dreadfully close crawl of lightning split the sky overhead! Hunkered down in the hammock, I heard the wood framed glass panes in my open windows rattle when the thunder shook the whole neighborhood.
