Molly, the Neighbor's Wife
Three months later on a Sunday morning Dutch sat alone reading the headline of the morning newspaper, "JFK Jr. Missing at Sea." He scanned the article.
A Grim Search read the headline in the L. A. Times - The morning after the plane belonging to the successor of John F. Kennedy's legacy was due to arrive on Martha's Vineyard along with his wife and her sister in a private plane bound for the Kennedy family compound. Their party was to attend a wedding.
Everyone was at Kathy's softball game. 'Such a waste of life,' he thought, and put the paper down, stood up and stretched. He had promised Rosa that he'd do something about repairing the run down fence separating Rosa's house from the one next door.
This seemed as good a time as any and so after ambling out to the garage and locating the necessary tools, he made several long overdue minor repairs to the fence. Afterward he decided to give the fence a primer coat and finish the job off over the course of the following week. He rummaged around the garage and found some primer and a couple of usable brushes.
Dutch thought he might as well get some sun and peeled off his shirt and began applying the primer coat to the fence. Twenty minutes into the job he reminded himself to consider the temperature before tackling a job like this again. Still he consoled himself with the fact that the pool was there for him if he got to hot. He decided to quit early anyway.
Pausing to admire his finished product, he opened a beer and took a long gulp. As he put the beer down on the ground, he heard the backdoor slam shut next door. This was followed by the sound of feminine feet clop-clopping across the patio and the screeching noise of a chaise lounge being dragged over concrete. Dutch primed the next two boards before noticing the knothole two boards over.
Always curious about females, he positioned himself in front of the hole and peered through it. The neighbor's wife was lying out about twenty feet from him, facing Dutch, her eyes closed. He searched his memory for her name and came up empty. He recalled meeting the husband, a frail looking guy, who if Dutch remembered was an accountant at the local bank.
For a second or two, he wondered if she could possibly look up and see his eye staring at her. Then he shrugged it off, 'fuck her,' he thought, 'I'm painting the fucking fence, she comes out in that bikini and I happen to catch a glimpse, so what?' He looked her over. 'Not bad though,' he said to himself, 'great legs, a brief enough bikini, flat stomach. That guy's got a nice piece of ass going for him.'
For the first time he realized he was getting a woody, and was wondering how he could strike up a conversation with her when he accidentally kicked the can of primer over. "Damn it!" He roared, pissed at his clumsiness. Quickly he knelt down and tried to salvage as much of the primer as possible, dipping the brush into it and slapping it on the fence.
Her voice froze him in his tracks, "Now that's even better than Tom Sawyer's routine."
He looked up and she was standing, peering over the fence at him. It was only then that it occurred to him that her yard had a higher elevation than his.
"Oh, hi," he said trying not to let his embarrassment show. "I'm just a klutz I suppose."
"No, I don't think so," she replied. "Every time I paint something I manage to spill paint where I shouldn't. In fact, my husband . . . his name is Arnold . . . well, he's told me not to even pick up a paintbrush."
Dutch smiled at her. "If you tell him about this, he'll probably tell me the same thing."
She returned his smile with a nervous grin. "No fear of that happening," she said and finally managed a smile, "he's hardly ever around here anyways."
Rising to his feet, Dutch looked over the fence at her. 'Jesus,' he thought, 'she's got a great set of tits.' "My name's Dutch. I'm going out with Rosa."
"I thought as much," she said. "My name's Molly, Molly Reeves. I don't really know Rosa. I mean, we've met and all, but we haven't had an opportunity to get to know one another yet. I . . . err, don't get out much."
"Well we can rectify that," he said. "There's a steak burning contest going on over here around seven tonight. Why not drop by? I'll tell the ladies to expect you."
"That's very kind of you. I might just do that. I do hate eating alone."
"Your hus . . . I mean Arnold, won't he be coming too?"
"I seriously doubt it. He'll most likely be at the club."
"Too bad," he said obviously not meaning it.
"Say," Molly said, pursing her lips, "by any chance do you know anything about pool filters?"
"What's wrong?"
"Ours is acting up and . . . well he's not here and I'd hoped to get a swim in."
"Let me take a look," Dutch said and easily vaulted over the fence, landing cat-like on his feet.
Molly watched him land, absorbing his masculinity and felt a tingle in her loins. "Impressive!" She said and reminded herself to take a breath.
He stared at her bunched up tits, barely constrained by her halter. "Very." He said softly, but loud enough for Molly to hear. She flushed as they sauntered over to the pool and the filtering mechanism.
"Here," she pointed and bent over. Dutch hung back enough to enjoy seeing the taut bikini bottom form a vacuum and get drawn up into the crack of her ass. Shifting his position to garner a look down into her ample cleavage, he was pleased to see one of her nipples completely exposed to his view. Taking a deep breath himself, he knelt next to her and after a short struggle managed to open the clogged trap and clean it of the debris, made sure it was functioning and closed the filtering trap.
When he stood up he discovered Molly staring at his erection. Jerking her eyes away, Molly spoke to him in a very sultry tone.
"Would you like another beer? I have a couple on ice . . . err, in the fridge."
His eyes remained on her breasts as he answered, "If it's no trouble and you join me."
"Sure. Be right back." He followed her as she retreated to her home, her ass providing a little extra wiggle as she walked.
Molly was back with two ice cold beers very quickly. Dutch noticed her nipples were a bit more evident through the stretchy fabric of her bikini top. Handing him one, she sat down on the lounge chair and invited him to sit down beside her.
"Will it hold the two of us?' He asked with a grin.
