Pool School
Evan and Lindsey had been neighbors for years. Until recently, a thin strip of tangled brush stretched between their backyards and concealed the property line they shared. It might as well have been a mile wide because she couldn't see his property through it, and he couldn't see hers. Then the pool project happened. Lindsey and her husband transformed their backyard into as oasis of sorts--pool, hot tub, garden, fireplace--the works.
Phase one of the project included clearing the brush between the properties to make room for the fence around the new backyard. Now Evan had a front row seat to what ended up being 2 years of construction delays, unreliable subcontractors, and supply chain issues.
"The joys of a home construction project in the wake of a pandemic'" she groaned to him one day as she looked at the mess that was the current state of her backyard. "I don't think this will ever be done!"
Evan, having dropped his gardening tools, smiled at her and said, "Yes, but once it is complete, you will have it forever and forget about all.....this!" He waved his hands in the general direction of the ditches, uninstalled pool equipment, and spaghetti like plumbing littered about her once simple, green backyard.
"You always put things into perspective," she said, smiling. "I wish I had your attitude about this whole thing."
They had many similar conversations over the course of the summer. One steamy summer day, Evan said to Lindsey, "I feel like I am putting in the pool. I am just not writing the checks, thank goodness. Leave that part to your husband!"
"Ha! Yes...of course he is working even harder and longer than usual. We are immensely over budget," she admitted shaking her head.
"It will be fine," he consoled her.
Almost daily, they would meet across her backyard fence and linger there. When the update on the pool fiasco was complete, they would exchange thoughts on the shortcomings of their respective spouses, politics, finances, you name it. As a result, they became fast friends over the course of the summer.
He loved the way she would let the ear pieces on her horn-rimmed dollar store reading glasses graze her lips as she held them while chatting away. She would occasionally bite the earpiece as she listened to him. He would become entranced by her aroma (which he discovered was actually just her laundry fabric softener). He would even position himself "down-breeze" from her as they visited over the fence, taking in her sweet smell.
She loved the way he would rest his chin on his fist, his elbow resting on the top of the fence, listening intently to her ideas on life. He never talked over her. He always seemed to really process--to value--her thoughts on whatever topic they landed on for the day.
His wife was in sales and traveled almost weekly. Evan worked in commercial real estate, largely from home. He would often work from his back porch, where he would catch her eye when she came out in the morning. He loved his yard. She would occasionally gawk at him through her sunglasses when his shirt would come off during the peek summer days. Sweat from his toiling made his ebony skin shimmer in the sun. His chest and arms were perfectly sculpted. His shorts, partially covering muscular thighs seemed to be the hardest working material in the neighborhood--housing, what in her imagination, was an enormous cock.
You know what they say......once you go.....She thought as she stared at him through her sunglasses, pretending to be consumed by the latest paperback bestseller.
Though he was quite attentive to his backyard, his eyes tended to wander time and again as well. After the pool project wrapped up, Lindsey would spend afternoons sitting by the pool or tending to the gardens around it. She typically wore a bikini concealed by a thin cotton jersey and cutoff shorts, the strands of which cascaded over beautiful thighs that would go from near alabaster in May to golden brown in August. He adored her legs and would dream of what they would feel like. He couldn't even imagine how smooth, how soft......
One incredibly hot and humid day as Lindsey was coming out from the sliding door on her deck to the pool, he shouted over the fence, "Good afternoon. I've been anticipating you! Guess what?"
"Hmmmm...I can't guess.....tell me, please!"
"Well, I am taking the plunge!" he announced, smiling broadly, his white linen shirt perfectly contrasting his beautiful skin.
"Coming over for a swim?" she asked jokingly, though the extending this invitation to him had crossed her mind on several occasions.
"No but I appreciate the invite! We decided to put in a pool!"
"Really?" she quipped. "After witnessing my disaster? You want this?"
"Yes, but look at it now! It's gorgeous," he replied. "We are meeting with a contractor this week!"
"Wow, you are moving along. Well, if you want some specifics, I am happy to oblige. I wouldn't want you to fall victim to the same pitfalls we did. Come on in and I will give you the scoop!"
"I'm going to Pool School," he said with a grin. "I promise to be good student!"
She opened the gate and he quickly complied, walking into her backyard for the first time since their friendship began. They toured the pool area for about an hour, discussing valve actuators, filters, salt cells, and all the essentials of pool construction. Finally, he said, "I don't think I can even retain all this! It's all great information, but it's really overwhelming."
"Don't worry. My husband kept exhaustive records--I mean really exhaustive. He perseverated over very detail and made notes, if for nothing else, to help someone like you in the future. He compiled it in a single massive file folder. It's all yours. Consider it an encyclopedia of pool installation."
She added, "You should take it now. Go over it before you meet with the contractor so you know what questions to ask. Come on inside and I grab it."
They entered the sliding door that led to her kitchen. The house was perfectly neat, cool and quiet.
"Upstairs," she ordered and pointed to the stairs. It's with a bunch of stuff in our bedroom. It's a heavy file folder. Would you mind carrying it down?"
"Of course," he answered. First the backyard, then the house, now the bedroom? What's happening here?
He followed her upstairs, entranced as the strands from her cutoffs graced her thighs. He looked down at the stairs. Keep going. Don't look.
They reached the top of the stairs and entered the bedroom. The bed was neatly made with a beige duvet and contrasting light green pillows. It was even cooler in the bedroom than the kitchen. The shades were drawn and the room dark but he could make out small swatches of his backyard and house through the vertical louvers as they swayed in the breeze created but the thick paddled ceiling fan above their heads.
"They're over there," she said, motioning toward the corner of the room. There was a rather large file folder on the floor in the far corner of the bedroom, opposite the king sized bed.
He started to walk over to pick it up. She stopped him by reaching out and touching his arm. Her gaze was fixed on his deep brown eyes. She closed her eyes, leaned forward on her tippy toes, and gently kissed his upper lip. He stood motionless. Her hands travelled up his forearms to his biceps and then to his shoulders. His lips parted as she slowly and gently nibbled at his upper lip. She stepped closer to him and could feel him growing, the front of his shorts becoming tense over his enlarging member. She felt her juices wicking through her bikini bottom, creating what she knew would be a visible spot if--when--her shorts came off.
She unbuttoned his linen shirt and allowed her lips to graze his chest. She lowered his shirt sleeves over his biceps and let the white linen shirt fall to the floor as she breathed over his left nipple. She watched it harden as the bulge in his pants continued to grow. He had not touched her. His hands hung by his sides, motionless. His body was in disbelief. What is happening here? he thought.
She abruptly stopped exploring his chest with her lips and turned away. Walking towards the bed, she unbuttoned her cutoffs, slowly lowered them so that he could enjoy the gradual reveal of her navy blue bikini bottom which barely concealed her ass. The shorts fell to her ankles. She stepped out of them and pulled down the duvet, uncovering pristine light beige sheets. Climbing onto the bed, she noticed the growing spot in the front of her bikini bottom. Fuck it, she thought. Let him see how much I want this. She turned to face him.
He couldn't believe what was unfolding in front of him: Lindsey was kneeling in the middle of her bed in a navy blue string bikini, her hands on her upper thighs.
Fuck. A million thoughts raced through his mind. He was paralyzed by her figure awaiting him a few feet away. His erratic and unhinged train of thought was halted by her next command: "Come here," she said. "And lose the shorts."
He stood motionless for an instant, not believing the words coming from her mouth. He unbuttoned his shorts and let them fall to the floor, revealing white boxer briefs. His ever growing erection barely contained by the athletic knit material. He climbed onto the bed and met her face to face. They kissed deeply exploring each other's mouths with their tongues. He still did not dare to touch her, as if he could not--would not--without her permission.
She put her hands on his waist and allowed her fingers to trace the outline of his cock through his briefs. He moaned softly while nibbling at her lower lip. She wondered just how her petite frame would accommodate him. But maybe it wouldn't happen at all. Maybe they would just make out, nearly naked in her bed until one of life's trivial inconveniences, like a ringing phone or a knock at the front door, would snap them out of this delicious moment and thrust them both back into reality. They would hastily put themselves together, and he would awkwardly leave, allowing them both to masturbate in private, fantasizing about the aborted encounter.
But there was no such interruption. They continued to kneel facing each other, kissing. It was impossible for her to wait any longer. She tugged at the waistband of his briefs, maneuvering them over his cock. The briefs slid to his knees. He backed off the bed and kicked them off. They landed on the floor next to her cutoffs.
He stood there for a moment motionless. She had to keep herself from gasping when she saw it for the first time, now unencumbered by his clothing.
