Bacyard Milf

Sorry to take so long to continue on with this story. I wasn't sure where to go after the first chapter for a while, but now I have completed four. I could go on, but I'm not sure what else to do with these characters narratively, beside just writing sex scenes. (Not that there is anything wrong with that!)

I make no effort in the series to catch up readers with prior chapters, so if you haven't encountered these characters before, I advise starting with

Backyard MILF Ch. 01

.

As always, please know that in this story, as with the rest of my works, I am not going for realism here. I just try to achieve the plausibly ridiculous.

Cheers!

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THE BACKYARD MILF 2

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My brain was on fire. Well, my body was certainly feeling like a lit candle, but I suppose the wick was considerably lower. Said wick was deeply buried in Kristie's pussy as I pressed her gorgeous body down into the thickly cushioned surface of her poolside chaise. Her panting face stared up at mine and she goaded me on to pound into her even harder. We both were sweating in the heat of the late afternoon, our exertions making our bodies slick against each other.

"Reggie," she gasped quietly, "Larry and Colleen aren't home right now, right?"

"I, uh," I gasped, then checked my watch to be sure. "No! Not for a couple of hours. Why?"

"Because... I... am about to get loud," Kristie gasped. I felt her suddenly tense up under my thrusting pelvis and she rolled her head back. Her mouth opened, silently at first, exposing her gleaming white teeth, then a low tone rolled from her lips. I felt her squeeze down on my cock as I kept up, desperately trying to hold off my own release until whatever loudness underneath me got fully under way.

I hoped I'd make it that long. Kristie really was the best looking woman I'd ever touched, much less fucked.

Her soft cry suddenly ramped up in both volume and register and her fingers suddenly dug into my backside painfully.

Yep, that did it. With a surprisingly loud exclamation of my own, I felt my cock spray inside her depths. My sudden eruption drew an even louder shriek from my partner, and her deeply gouging fingers now held me fully buried in her as she shoved her hips upward against me.

And just like that, we collapsed down onto the chaise in a heap, her gorgeous 'investments' pressing delectably against my chest.

We lay there, gasping for breath, happy to be pressed against each other... at least until Kristie stopped gasping for breath due to her recent orgasm, and started having trouble breathing from my dead weight atop her. I pushed up on my elbows, and she smiled up at me.

"Pool," she panted.

I slid to my feet and grasped her hand to help her up. We each took about three steps and hurled ourselves into the cool water of her backyard pool. The sparkling water accelerated the softening of my cock, and cleared my head. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her deeply. As she returned my kiss, she grabbed a hand of mine and pressed it against a breast, pushing my fingers deep.

But then she pulled away and we both slid over to collapse on the second concrete step. Sitting at that depth, her tits were just above the surface. I decided this was the best step to sit on from now on...After a few wordless minutes, Kristie, sighed. "That was fabulous, but I have to say, it wasn't as good as the first time," she said slowly, stroking my soft cock gently, as if trying to soften the blow of her words.

It did not soften the blow. I could barely keep from freaking out openly, though I did stiffen (and not in the fun way). I could not bear the thought that I had given this perfect creature less than all that she deserved. I was instantly humiliated that I had not been up to snuff... And I was mostly selfishly alarmed that she might be less likely to want to do it again.

Before my protestations of dismay could get rolling, Kristie shushed me. "Easy there, my eager little perv," she said, reassuringly. "The sex was fucking awesome. You may not think you are an expert in going down, but I'm a completely satisfied customer, believe me." Her hand curled around my exhausted dick more assertively. "No, the problem was the set up," she mused. "The first time was mind-blowing, with the excitement of catching you, of knowing I'd truly been spied on. Nice and fat as this dick here is, that was the memory I kept coming back to. This time, we scheduled it. For crying out loud, I laid out a towel for you."

I was taken aback, but only momentarily. "Huh," was all I said for a moment, then went on. "Yeah, the terror of being caught wasn't awesome, but the challenge and excitement of watching without being seen was thrilling." I paused, considering. "And your dance this time was actually better, I think. But it wasn't as exciting to watch as the the other one, where you didn't know I was watching."

"This routine was better?" Kristie asked, a sudden (formerly) professional interest in her voice. "Why?"

This was not on topic, but what the hell. It was a helluva topic on its own. I almost blushed. "Well, it was better for some obvious reasons, such as the fact that you were closer to me this time, and you got your clothes off faster," I chuckled, and she snorted along with me. "But beyond that, I still think I liked this one better, but as to details why... Can I get back to you? I'd need to think about it."

Honestly, I was much more concerned about making sure the spark didn't go out of this amazing, (I hoped) ongoing series of events.

Kristie thought calmly. I was reminded that she was much older than me, and her maturity was showing, even if it was showing in service of hanky-panky. Her hand still had not left my cock. She still massaged it. I was not hardening up again, yet, but it felt amazing, and I suspected I would be rising to the occasion soon. The fact that she clearly was interested in making that happen was reassuring.

"That's it then," Kristie said firmly. "No more dates."

"What?" I asked in sudden, profound concern. "Hey, let's not..."

She laughed. "Oh, I'm not giving up fucking you. But you need to earn it from now on!"

I relaxed and grinned in interest. "How?"

"You need to spy on me when I don't know it's coming... successfully," she said, thinking hard. "In fact, before we can play again, I'm going to need to receive a text from you with a picture of me, you know the kind. Send it to me after you've successfully gotten away. If I catch you spying, and I haven't gotten a picture from an earlier attempt, I'm kicking you out. If I have gotten proof of spying earlier..." she smiled promisingly.

*

So now I had a complex sex life. Do not for one second think that I was complaining, however. I found myself very much into the kind of complications that I thought Kristie had in mind. Somewhat unfortunately, I had plenty of time to figure out how and when to spy on her, but not much for actually spying on her, because my parents were still gleefully complicating my normal life as much as possible.

They were, as had been the case since I moved back home (temporarily!), intent on torturing me by being all sorts of amorous in front of me whenever possible. It was their way of making sure I was eager to get out of the house in the fall, and leery about returning at

any

future date. They needn't have bothered. I was a grown-ass man of twenty-four, thank you. Even though I was out of work prematurely before starting my MBA program, I'd have been able to make it on my own without their hospitality. It had been Dad's damned idea to come home and save my money.

Now, he was molesting my mother at every opportunity to do so, right in front of me.

And she was goading him on. Eagerly.

It had been bad enough back when they had first started it. I was in a mostly normal headspace. Now, I was constantly horny, thinking about my next opportunity do a whole lot of molesting of my own with Kristie.

Those wires in my head kept getting crossed, with uncomfortable results.

Sunday morning, I was having breakfast (yes, my

mommy

had cooked it) and my father wandered into the kitchen. Mom gave him a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, and the bastard grabbed her and pinned her against the refrigerator! After a pro-forma laugh or two of protest, Mom just up and lifts her legs, wrapping them around his hips. Dad is standing there, grinding his hips against Mom's crotch, and I was trying to eat my pancakes.

This was a bit more than usual, but still barely within their recent parameters. Before that week, I'd have made snide comments, put my head down, and powered through my breakfast, so as not to give them the satisfaction. Now... I found myself imagining pushing Kristie up against her fridge in similar fashion, but with less clothes in the way.

That was not a bad little fantasy image, except that I was overlaying that image over my

mother

. I was getting an erection in front of my parents while they were making out. I found myself building action plans to gouge my own eyes out, and we aren't even Greek!

Nope.

I was out of my seat in a flash, rushing to dump the rest of those delicious pancakes in the trash and put my dishes in the washer. "I'm out of here guys," I said, in as normal voice as I could manage. "I have a few things to pick up."

My mother snickered quietly. My father, in a voice which would not have melted butter, called after me, "Reggie, since you are running errands, grab the list by the back door. There's about ten things on it you and I need from Home Depot if we are going to spruce up the pool shelter. I'll pay you back!"

Trapped.

I stood, fuming, by the back door, and looked at the bulletin board we kept there. Dad's list was tacked over everything else. I took a deep breath and read it. "Not everything here comes from the Depot, Dad!"

"Well," he called back, in between audible kisses with my mother, "you better get moving then, if we want to get started this evening!"

"Ahhhh," I growled, ripping the note down off its thumbtack. I heard them both laugh. I had indeed been played. Fine, it gave me an actual reason to escape, since I truthfully had not actually had anything I needed to do.

As I pushed open the back door, I heard their laughter die down, replaced by more sounds of making out...

Eeeesh.

Half the shit on this list had nothing to do with repairing and touching-up the fabric canopy structure that kept our pool shaded in the evening. I had been given the 24-year-old's equivalent of, 'Here's a quarter. Now go play in the street.'

I stayed out for four hours. If what I feared was about to happen, happened, the Old Man could not possibly last that long.

*

I didn't honestly mind, though. Getting out of the house was exactly what I had needed. My parents, especially my mother, were no longer part of my thought process, leaving more room for Kristie. And mindless shopping with very little decision-making required was just the thing to let me brainstorm about how to approach any continuing antics with her in the way best calculated to give her what she wanted... so I could give her what I wanted.

I needed three heavy-duty screw-eyes of a certain size, and the Home Depot had... two. While I was standing in the aisle, looking in the adjacent bins in case someone had dropped one in there by mistake, I pondered the central issue. Kristie liked being watched, but... No. She wanted to be

spied on

. She wanted to be watched, but not know when or if it was happening at that moment. I guessed that that would make it better for her when she caught me. It made me more of a perv, and that seemed central to her enjoyment.

I could be a perv. I had discovered that I rather liked it. No, I really liked it. I could definitely get into seriously trying not to be caught.

I was momentarily dumbstruck by the fact that there actually was a third screw-eye of the size I needed mixed into a bin of heavy-duty bolts just ten inches away from where it belonged. Things were looking up. I would not have to visit a second Home Depot.

Except I would, because this store was out of the replacement screen material Dad had specified...

And why the fuck was whole milk on a hardware list? The only person in the house who drank whole milk was me... This was not my Dad's list. This had been written for me all along. I was going to plot revenge on my father... just as soon as I was done plotting coming on and in Kristie.

The thing was, she wanted to not know when I might be spying, but she would want to be putting on a show for me when I did. Did that mean that she would be spending all her free time wandering around half, or even fully, naked, vamping it up? The idea of that was making me hard enough that I decided that I had better wait a minute before going into Publix for the milk.

*

We have a larger than usual pool, at least for our neighborhood, and early on, between the lack of mature trees and the orientation of our house, the mid-and late-afternoon sun made even lying in the pool pretty beastly hot, particularly for my mother. When Mom was dissatisfied, shit got done.

Dad, with an assist from a much younger me and a handyman, had constructed an apparatus consisting of two blue, triangular, horizontal, overlapping 'sails', pulled taut between supports. It shaded one end of the pool, the shallow one, and a bit of the patio around it in the afternoon. Two supports were anchored to the house. A third was just a large pole on the other side of the pool. The last support was another pole, but this one was built into a trellis arch that my mother grew Mandevilla vines all over.

The trellis was Dad's and my project, as it had traitorously decided to rot in numerous places. We had to cut away a sadly large amount of the gorgeous, flowering vines, then replace more than half of the small struts with fresh wood. The main frame, and especially the sail support were rock solid still. We only wanted to replace the anchor points out of caution. That was fortunate, or the job would have been a week-long one, not a week-end one.

But since we didn't get started until Sunday, the job bled over through most of Monday. Dad had a business trip coming up, so he took the opportunity to take the day off to finish the job with me. We needed no handyman now that I was no longer ten. The whole project had not been strictly necessary yet, but for all the crap he liked to hand out about my being a (temporary) boomerang and infesting his house, I could tell Dad wanted to spend time with me while I was still around. I was glad to, honestly.

It did not mean that I did not want revenge for manipulating me into doing his shopping for him.

My chance came as we were close to finishing. It was about three in the afternoon, and I had climbed up atop the trellis to set the new anchor point for the sail support. The huge triangles of fabric are quite literally sails when the wind blows and require seriously secure tie downs to ensure they don't tear or simply fly away.

About half an hour earlier, the first time I had shimmied up there, movement had caught my eye and I realized that I could see over the fence and into Kristie's yard. She had been coming out of her house in shorts and a teeshirt. Her workday was done and she looked like she wanted to relax. She heard me hammering away up there, smiled, and waved.

I didn't want to wave and give away she was there, so I just winked broadly and called down to my father for more nails. Alerted to the fact that I wasn't alone up there, she covered her mouth to signal she got it. She put down her drink and her book on the table, and turned back around to re-enter her house.

I had only about ten more minutes worth of nailing down the pre-painted slats of wood, in which time, Kristie re-appeared. She had changed her clothes again, and now wore a very fetching, and very small bikini. She waved at me again, twirled, and the sat down with her book.

It was nice to know that she had changed just for me, so I could get a glimpse. I smiled, and resumed hammering.

And then I missed a nail and whacked my thumb, because I was sneaking glances at Kristie as she lay there in the sun.

I paused and sucked on my thumb. I hadn't really smashed it, fortunately. More fortunately, my Dad was distracted and hadn't noticed, meaning I was not being mocked.

Kristie had certainly moved pretty quickly to give me a show, hadn't she? It had only been a couple of days since we had last had sex, but it had been almost a week since our first (and only so far) truly voyeuristic experience. This was just casual, non-clandestine observation, but she still clearly wanted it. I needed to get with the program and give her what she really wanted.

I finished up and climbed down to help Dad set up the new anchor apparatus. When he offered to climb up this time, I forestalled that quickly. "No, no, Old Man," I laughed, pitching my voice loudly enough to be heard next door, "I will climb back up there. I don't want your fragile old bones to shatter if you fall."

"Fragile old bones, huh? Don't worry about them, I'd make sure that I fell on you," he laughed back. But he was happy to let me do the monkey work. I had just wanted to make sure that he didn't get an eyeful of 'my' view.

Up I went again, struggling at the top to get myself seated into a safe and secure position before Dad handed up the sail. I took much more time to do that than I should have, but... well...

Kristie was resolutely not looking in my direction, as if she had forgotten anyone was there. She had pulled the cups of her bikini top aside, revealing those goddamn miracles that were her tits. She held her book in one hand, while she rubbed suntan lotion into those firm globes. The flesh deformed hypnotically as her fingers pressed and rubbed the sunscreen into their exquisitely tanned surface. The only indication that she gave that she knew I was there was the fact that her nipples were erect and engorged enough that I could tell even from this distance.

It is hard to get settled on a wooden structure not meant for sitting when you have a rapidly expanding boner in the way...

Once I finally managed, I looked down at my father below. As he handed up the anchor, I called out, louder than I needed to, "Hey, Dad! Did you know that you can see over into Kristie's yard from up here?"

He took the fucking bait. Mom wasn't home, and wouldn't be for hours, but he still shot a look at the house before replying with a grin. "Really? Too bad she's not out sunbathing topless or something over there. I'd have for climb up there with you." His voice, responding to my own, was also rather loud.

I looked down at him, grinned, and started to say, "Uhhh..." before I was interrupted.

"I can

hear

you, Larry," sang out Kristie, from beyond the fence.

My father's eyes widened and he said, "Oh shit," only much quieter this time. I grinned down at him with a distinct evil touch to my smile now. He looked around wildly, as if searching for a hole to crawl into. "I'm going to go in and grab something," he said, trying to brazen things out as if nothing had happened. "Are you okay up there for a bit?" he asked me.

Me? I was more than fine up there, especially with the view I had. Before I could look back to said view, I heard Kristie speak again, clearly not wanting to let Dad off the hook, and wanting to lock down this kind of thought by him. "And Larry? For the record, I am not sunbathing topless over here," she called, speaking slowly and clearly. At first, I thought she was doing that to emphasize her point and draw out his embarrassment. Then I looked up and saw she had been talking slow to give herself time to tug her bikini bottoms off, making it more technically true that she wasn't sunbathing topless.