Life was good. Really good. The sun was bright and warm, the air was clear, the day was perfect. My dick was so very fully hard and throbbing pleasantly with the remnants of a deliciously naughty dream as I woke slowly from a lazy mid-morning nap.
I stretched and gazed up into a deep blue sky, relaxing, soaking up the sun in the back yard of my folks' house. I lounged there, completely naked by the pool and let my cock sway gently, standing up proudly in the warm air. I might take care of it in a bit or maybe just play with it some to stoke my appetite for a more thorough session later, but right now I was just enjoying the naughty naked freedom.
I was home from my junior year at college and my folks were off on some cruise or other. I had the place to myself and I was loving the superbly naughty thrill of literally hanging out bare ass naked.
As I said: Life was good. After four years in the Navy right after high school, I found that college was a breeze, I had scholarships on top of my GI Bill, a good, well-paying job on campus when I was there, and a lazy summer lawn and yardwork gig to keep me tan and bring in extra cash - and, sometimes other benefits.
My phone buzzed and I idly thumbed the WhatsApp alert to open it.
Hi, Jack. This is Lydia. Christie gave me your number and said you do some really great work. I was wondering if you might be available. I have about a half acre of yard and some really wild bushes that need some professional attention.
I sat up and took notice at that.
I thumbed her avatar to get a better look. She was super cute! Straight, glossy, cinnamon blond hair that fell across her shoulders and a super pretty smile; lusciously thick lips curled to expose orthodontically perfect teeth. I could have stroked off right there just fantasizing about what she could do with that hot-as-fuck mouth of hers. But she was offering a job, so I deferred for the moment. I told myself there'd be plenty more to stroke to after I'd put paid to her yard and wild bushes.
I'd done quite a lot of yard work over the past couple of summers; mostly from word-of-mouth connections, so this wasn't an unusual message. Still... It was a referral from Christie and I thought - even started to hope - that that might be significant.
In addition to a good bit of yard work, I'd done some other, more interesting work for Christie. She's a very hot and, as I'd discovered to my delight, very horny friend of my Mom. Thinking of that, I was soon wondering if perhaps this might just be more than a simple yardwork referral. I intended to explore that possibility.
I texted back,
I'm totally available. When/where?
Lydia sent me a pin not ten seconds later, adding
Now's good? Or whenever you can fit me in if you're busy.
I went inside, pulled on a scrub shirt and a pair of swim trunks, and stepped into my Crocs as I texted back that I was on my way. Less than a half-hour later, I pulled up at Lydia's place.
She literally bounced out to meet me. Her avatar didn't half do her justice: She was stunningly cute! She stood five foot eight or nine in her flat strappy sandals. If she were wearing heels, I'd be looking up at her.
"Hi! I'm Lydia. Thank you so much for coming," she beamed at me. Her smile was warm and engaging. I focused on it, to keep from openly ogling her. Four years in service and master chief knows how many sexual harassment classes had managed to make me a passable gentlemen, at least outwardly.
As a side effect of this behavioral reprogramming, my peripheral vision had improved significantly. Lydia wore a loose, thin, lavender pullover that couldn't quite conceal the curves of her generous breasts. She had a wine-colored sarong wrapped around her curvy hips. And she smelled like sex and toasted vanilla.
The erection that had subsided on the drive over began to stir again in my trunks.
But I was there for her yard, I reminded myself. I smiled back, "Hi, Lydia. Let's see what I can do for you today," I said.
"Right to business, huh? This way then." She led me through the foyer and a neat, tastefully appointed living room and out onto a modestly opulent patio overlooking a slightly overgrown back yard.
"Here it is. My secret, shameful garden," she said as she led me through the wide French doors onto her patio.
If the yard beyond was a bit of mess, the marble-tiled patio was immaculate. It sported an outdoor grill and kitchen on one side and an in-ground hot tub on the other. Between them, two loungers and a pair of deck chairs flanked a square table that supported a broad sun umbrella. A pitcher of dark red liquid sat on the table with a couple of glasses.
Lydia saw me notice the pitcher. "Care for a sangria, Jack" she asked.
"I wouldn't say no, Lydia. Thanks." She poured two glasses of the ruby concoction and handed one to me. We toasted and I sipped at the cold, bittersweet wine cocktail. Lydia wasn't sporting a wedding ring, and everything I'd noted in my brief passage through the house suggested she was single. She liked to entertain, but she wasn't hitched, I was guessing.
I put my glass down and pulled out my notepad and pencil, walking towards the end of the patio. "Let's see what we've got," I said. "Let me take a look around and I'll work up a plan, yeah?"
"Great," Lydia smiled at me over the rim of her glass as she folded herself into one of the chairs.
In the center of the yard was a decorative fountain nestled in front of some bushes and other decorative plantings opposite a shaded glider swing. Untamed bushes lined the fences on either side of the yard. Near the back fence, two oak trees supported a large covered hammock.
I made a short tour of the grounds, making some notes, then returned to sit opposite Lydia. I took another sip of my drink as my pencil ticked off the items I'd noted and I did some quick math.
"So I suggest we start with the bushes. I'll give them a good trim, shape them up. Then the lawn, and then finish off with a bit of fresh mulch and some bed work. I'm thinking two, maybe two and a half hours, tops."
"Bushes first, not the grass," Lydia asked.
"That way I can bag the clippings along with the grass as I mow," I explained.
"And the mulch? What's that run," she asked, seeming more curious than concerned over cost.
"Free," I said, "I trade the bagged clippings in at Forster's for compost and I get mulch from them."
"Sounds like a great arrangement," she smiled at me.
"It is," I admitted, "win-win and green on top." We shared a short laugh, then I said, "My only question is what you want done with the hedges and those two bushes by the fountain. I can shape them almost any way you want."
"Oh, I was just thinking a neat trim," she said, "but if you want to get artsy... how artsy, like Edward Scissorhands?"
"Not that artsy, but I'm okay with the trimmers," I assured her.
"Well, whatever you think looks best. Follow your muse, Jack." Her smile was warm and entrancing. I shook my head slightly just once to refocus.
"Alright, then. I'll get to work," I said, starting to get up.
"There's water and beer and drinks and whatnot in the fridge if you get thirsty," she said, lifting one arm towards the refrigerator next to the outdoor kitchen. "And if you get hungry, let me know. I've got sandwich stuff and other options."
"Great, thanks," I said, not quite stopping myself from thinking about what those other options might be. I felt my tackle tingle in my trunks, but pushed through. I went back out to my truck and pulled it around to the side where I'd seen a gate in the fence. I grabbed my trimmers and went to work.
I made quick work of the bushes along the fence line, then got my trimmer and whacked the grass along the hedge line, around the two trees, and finally around the fountain and its shrubbery. Then I set to work on the two large bushes that sat on the opposite side of the fountain from the glider.
As I worked, I noticed that Lydia had moved from the chair to one of the lounges, losing her top and skirt in the process. From a distance, I saw a whole lot of smooth, tanned skin and not a lot of cherry-red bikini. I felt my groin clench appreciatively at the sight, but bent to my work on shaping Lydia's bushes.
Done, I put away the trimming and edging tools and got out my mower and a spare battery pack for it. I parked the mower just inside the gate and went to get a water out of the fridge.
"What do you think," I asked Lydia as I walked towards the patio's kitchen, keeping my eyes in their proper place despite the great temptations.
I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. I had worked up a good sweat in the warm mid-day sun. I ran the bottle across my forehead, enjoying the cooling sensation as I turned to find Lydia, now standing, looking out over her yard.
"Everything looks great," she said, "but... did you sculpt my bushes into... boobs?!"
I followed her gaze and saw to my dismay that from this angle, that's exactly what they looked like; a slightly mismatched pair of C-cups capped with sand dollar and gumdrop shaped nipples.
"Uh," I grunted, chagrinned, "I was going for Hershey's Kisses, but sometimes, the bush gets ideas of its own" I explained. "I'll fix it."
"No," Lydia said, "Leave it. I kinda like it." She turned and smiled at me. "Next time, maybe I'll model for you." She glanced meaningfully down at her own, generous breasts and then smiled back at me.
I felt myself blushing and covered by taking a long sip of my water.
"So," I said. "Just gotta mow and mulch. Do you mind if I take my shirt off? It's getting kind warm out."
"No," she almost coughed, "Please. I mean, go right ahead. Wouldn't want you to overheat." Her smile bordered on naughty now.
I pocketed my bottle of water and stripped off my scrub shirt as I walked back towards where I'd left the mower. I tossed my shirt over the fence gate to air out. From behind me, I heard Lydia call, "Do you want some sunscreen? I've got some SPF 15."
I turned to find Lydia holding a spray bottle of sunscreen. It was probably a good idea, yeah. I walked over to her and took the offered bottle. I notice Lydia hadn't had the same sensitivity training I'd had, or it hadn't taken; she shamelessly eyed me up and down as I spritzed and rubbed sunscreen on my limbs and pecs and abs.
"Here, let me get your back," she said.
I handed her the bottle and turned away. I felt the cool spray of the lotion and then her warm hands spreading it across my shoulders and back. She worked her hands across my back and flanks, taking just a little longer than absolutely necessary, but I didn't complain. Her touch was magical and made my temples buzz pleasantly. And my balls. I now had to figure out how to get on to mowing without turning to reveal the obvious bulge that was now tenting my trunks.
"There," she breathed, "all set. Do me before you start on the lawn," she asked, holding the bottle out over my shoulder.
I took it. "Uh. Sure," I said and looked back to see her walking over to stretch out face-down on one of the loungers. I quickly adjusted myself with my free hand, hoping to minimize the evidence of my arousal.
I walked over and knelt down beside Lydia. She'd untied her bikini top and her back lay before me bare and beautiful. I spritzed lotion across her back and shoulders and worked it with my hands. Her skin was warm and smooth; it felt really nice under my fingers as I slathered the lotion across her back and shoulders.
"Mmm. Nice hands," she remarked as I started to spread the sunscreen across her upper back and shoulders. "What did you do in the Navy, Jack?"
The non-sequitur took me by surprise, but I answered, "I was a Corpsman - a medic - in the FMF. Uh, Fleet Marines," I explained, "Basically a grunt doc,"
"Ah," she said as I moved on to smooth lotion across her lower back and flanks, "that makes sense," she said. "So, you're pre-med now?"
"No," I chuckled, "Still working paramedic to support myself, but I'm working on a Poli-Sci degree."
