Covet Thy Neighbor

Next door to where I live is a newish 4 condo building (one to each floor, all fairly large). The units have a tiny rear deck (about 4' X 10"). My place is the only home on the block with a back yard/garden; everyone else on the block has done a build-out or tear–down, then re-building a much larger home covering the whole footprint of their property. As a result, all of the local squirrels come to die in my back yard. One my pleasures is working in my gardens (small in front and larger in the rear). I trim perennials and plant annuals. There's a singles bar nearby, so I also clean up stuff like beer cans and rubbers passersby leave behind. It's a gentrified environment.

The summer before last on a very warm July day, I was sweating up a storm in the back yard moving dirt around and digging up weeds. Taking a break, I had just finished a cold beer when I heard the lilting tone of a female voice—

"Hi Michael, your garden looks great."

I looked up at the second floor condo and saw Cindy, a then 40 -something divorcée, mother of Alex--a 6 year old dilettante. She was leaning over her deck railing giving me a

come hither

smile. She was and is very attractive. She does seem to flaunt her trim, toned and very shapely body at every opportunity (I love flaunters). Although the sun's glare was impeding my view, I could see Cindy wearing a very sexy bikini. She was hosing down her deck.

Cindy had then been living next door to me for about two years. She was very friendly. Some of the happily young- marrieds on our block thought her a bit

too

friendly. She was often out front with her son playing. She used the building's garden hose to spray him and cool herself as well. Cindy seemingly never wore a bra and her tee shirts and shorts often got wet. Her water-chilled pointy nipples were clearly visible and when she wore a thinner fabric, her beautifully shaped breasts could be seen as if she were in a wet tee shirt contest. When Cindy and Alex were outside there was an inordinate amount of dogs being walked by men of the many local households. Although feigning indifference to leering stares, Cindy clearly enjoyed exhibiting her toned lithe body and. being ogled

Cindy had been to our home a few times: Once for a casual dinner with lots of neighbors and then for our annual Halloween party. I loved her last year's costume--a very cute little white nurse's outfit. It was predictably white with deep décolletage with outlandish push-up bra. Her rounded perky breasts seemed to be lying on top of the bra, her nipples almost peeking out of her low cut bodice.

The very short outfit showed off her super legs, long, tanned and shapely. She seemed taller than her 5'3." Cindy had a

profound

effect upon one of my golf buddies, a heart surgeon, accompanied by his loving wife. (I have a video of him looking up her white dress while purportedly picking up his fallen napkin.) Cindy left early to pick up Alex—my suburban buddy left shortly thereafter.

Cindy's penchant's for wearing borderline provocative clothing turned me on but, because of her proximity to my home, discretion (and faked disinterest) was

my

strategy. Other than her nerdy ex-husband coming by for visitation with Alex, I had yet to see her with a date. A very horny shrink friend from down the street thought her an exhibitionist with latent narcissistic tendencies. I asked him what the hell that meant and he said "I dunno, but I'd love to do her."

Cindy apparently comes from a well-to-do family; her parents often visited—separately, each with their new spouses, deluging her and the kid with their largess. She is at the U of C (MBA program). She is very smart and made great eye contact. She often bitched about her ex-husband, which, I guess is normal in cases of divorce and custody.

When she called down to me that day, I considered possible scenarios and consequences. But, as my good old dad used to caution me, "a stiff pecker has no brains." My dick had no idea there was an inherent danger in my staring at the little triangular piece of material covering her bottom. Nor did it react defensively to Cindy's cute round breasts spilling out of her tiny bikini top. I was hooked when she casually pulled her top slightly away from her bosom, and mimicking an ingénue, she sprayed her breasts with the hose. I knew she knew I couldn't see her nakedness but she giggled, shivered and seemed to revel in her little tease.

Debonair, sophisticated and stalwart guy that I thought myself, I immediately felt the increased stiffness in my loins as Mr. Boner awoke. I realized my face was sodden with dirt, sweat and vegetation. I took the hose and sprayed myself soaking my tee shirt but washing away some of the crud. Eloquently, I shouted up to her:

"Hey, great swimsuit!"

She pirouetted and flexed her cute firm ass at me, looked over her shoulder and said, "you like it?" In my suave voice I replied, "what's not to like?"

We chatted/gossiped and, banalities accomplished, Cindy asked: "How long will Carol (my wife) be gone?" Curious and a bit puzzled, I asked, "how do you know she's away?"

"I saw her get in a cab with a pretty big suitcase this AM—are you guys OK?" (Pure Cindy).

Being a kind, sensitive guy, I responded: "she left me to join a convent dedicated to the patron saint of shopping--

St. Tiffany

." Seeing that my inane attempt at humor went flying past her, I continued: "she'll be back in 5 days." Not seeming very interested, Cindy segued:

"I need to ask your advice about something; can you come over later for a few minutes?" I asked her what the nature of her problem was, and she answered, "my ex is giving me trouble about Alex; can we talk, please?" I told her I wasn't very conversant in family law but she persisted. Weighing the gravity of her problems and looking at her body, I ruminated about the situation.

Like any prudent, faithful husband who fears a neighbor might see him entering Cindy's condo, I declined:" Sorry, I'm expecting a call from an overseas client this evening." My thought processes were however,

very

different as I inwardly prayed, "please let her offer to come to my house." At this point I had no idea what I wanted of, or with this sexy person—I just knew I wanted to see more of her (body).

Music to my aging ears: "Alex is with his sitter until later this evening, how 'bout I come over to your house in an hour?" Good neighbor that I considered myself, I grudgingly acquiesced. I went upstairs where a cool shower and an icy Ketel One awaited.

Buzzed slightly from the vodka and comfy in workout shorts and a tee, I opened the door to Cindy.

"Hi, good grief, you clean up nice!," taken aback by her freshened appearance and striking good looks. "Come on in!"

She had put on a little make-up and some sultry perfume (my olfactory nerve is my best asset).Her short auburn hair was tossed, as if fresh from a shower. She also seemed taller—I noticed her heeled sandals as she passed me to go up the stairs. But the real wowser was her outfit: A short, tiny black tee baring substantial firm tanned flesh below—all the way below—to a very low cut black, soft cotton, matching mini skirt. I followed her swaying ass up the stairs. Discovering the color of her panties became my short term goal.

Cindy plopped own on the couch in the living room, sighed deeply and demurely asked, "may I have a glass of wine?"

"Sure, white or red?" She smiled and said "Chardonnay, if it's OK?" She seemed to bat her eyes coyly as she looked up at me. I went to the kitchen, poured the wine, retrieved my drink and joined her on the couch. She had leaned back against the armrest with her tanned bare legs stretched out on the cushions, sandals kicked off. I sat down opposite her, trying, albeit with difficulty, to keep my eyes away from the hem of her very short skirt. We touched glasses and Cindy took a deep sip of wine, looked at me quizzically, and began to relate to her alleged problem:

"My ex is giving me a lot of trouble about visitation with Alex." That seemed strange because the ex seemed (to me) like a decent guy, visits regularly, brings the kid home on time, and Alex seemed to be in good spirits around his father. In answer to a question I politely posed, her ex was current in support and all financial obligations. Cindy eyes then began to tear up. Somewhat angrily she said, "I just don't have any time to myself, he's always calling and dropping by to see Alex." Ah, I thought to myself, a case of an over attentive dad.

I again began explaining that a domestic relations was not my forte when Cindy started crying. My "what's the matter, Cindy?" was countered with "can I have a tissue?" Bewildered, but with lewdness in my heart, I brought her some Kleenex. She wiped her eyes miraculously not disturbing her light makeup, and looked up at me, and in a complete change in tone said:

"Can I REALLY talk to you and tell you what's REALLY happening? Why I REALLY need someone on my side? Honestly, I don't know who to turn to." She crossed one long over the other and leaned back. Sympathetically, I said "of course" (while thinking, "no bra, that little shirt is barely covering the undersides of her breasts...maybe she'll lean back further."

I softly and gently told her that she might think about getting some help-- a therapist perhaps? Cindy looked at me, paused and responded: "Only if he's as cute and nice as you."

Cindy smiled broadly. She took a sip of wine. Blue eyes staring at me over the goblet, she fluffed the hem of her tiny black skirt as if preparing to get up. I thought I saw her panties but it happened too quickly and, for once my eyes weren't focused there.

Starting me somewhat, Cindy exclaimed: "Michael, I'm fucking lonesome! Bored! .... and, honestly, I get real horny!" She took a deep breath considering what she had said and continued: "On top of everything, Alex is all boy and very needy."

Slightly babbling, I told her she seemed to be wonderful mother and a beautiful girl—very desirable and well put together. Gulping some vodka, I told her any normal guy would love to be with her. She seemed to perk up a bit and then it happened!

With a gamin-like look on her face, Cindy drew her knees up to her chest. The little black skirt wasn't nearly up to the task of covering her thighs and above. Moving imperceptibly to my right I had an oblique but very clear view of her peach colored bikini briefs. The familiar warming in my loins that precedes my cock getting stiff was wonderful.

Cindy didn't miss a beat watching me closely, she giggled and said "I like it when you look at me; it makes me feel warm and sexy." She opened her knees a bit giving me a straight on view of her panties which appeared to be very silky and shear.

My heart started to race as my dick hardened. I made no effort to restrain or hide it in my loose shorts. Cindy looked at the bulge, smiled and licked her lips, VERY suggestively. I noticed her left had was scratching/stroking her left side moving slowing to the underside of her breast only inches above.

Not knowing exactly what to do, I lamely asked: "Can I get you another glass of wine?" Cindy reached over handing me her glass placing her left foot on the floor widely spreading her legs and causing her skirt to move up to her hip. As I bent to grasp her glass, I saw that the very shear panties were open completely on the side and I could see well groomed but lush pubic hair at her crotch. She modestly closed her legs as I took the glass.

I thought about throwing on different pair of shorts with a jock, but I though, "fuck it." I returned with our freshened drinks. The length and shape of my cock was discernible through my shorts. I was very turned on in anticipation of maybe seeing Cindy's whole package (no pun meant).

As I approached the couch, Cindy rose and brushing her breasts against my chest walking by me, she grinned over her shoulder saying "be right back." She entered the bathroom and I took a moment to appraise the situation. I decided that I wouldn't, no matter what, fuck her, even if she begged me, hah. I also knew that I wanted our little tease and show game to continue. It was, after all, harmless, and I was being neighborly.

I smelled her perfume before I saw Cindy return. She looked freshened and a little flushed. I watched her breasts sway as she sat down, again opposite me, legs properly closed, knees flexed to one side. Very demurely, she cast her eyes downward and turned head a bit away from me. Talking very softly she said:

"I get excited when men look at my body; it makes me feel very sexy and powerful. I love it when I know a man can see my panties or my breasts. I get a warm sensuous feeling seeing a bulge in a guy's pants knowing that he's turned on looking at me. Am I a bad person?"

Dumbstruck, I shook my head, swallowed, and said, "no, of course not, you're in your sexual prime, healthy and very good looking; there's nothing wrong that I can see. Maybe you should get out more."

She turned towards me stretching out her pretty legs but not opening them and smiled. "I saw that you were turned on before. Was that because of me?"

"What made you think that?" I said innocently. Cindy said, "I saw the bulge of your penis in those shorts."

"I plead guilty, but I ask for leniency, it was an irresistible impulse."

She politely laughed, looked at me in a very sultry way, and said:" I was very excited watching your eyes look at my panties; I wanted you to see them....... I want to show you more of me."

Relaxed and leaning back again against the armrest, Cindy looked hard at me, and asked: "do you want to see my breasts?" I was almost overcome with the sexual electricity coming from her as I said, "yes, I'd love to see them." She very slowly reached for the loose bottom of her short tee shirt. Her eyelids went to half mast and with a deliberate peeling motion, she moved the tee up and over the globes that were her glorious breasts.

I let out a long breath as I gazed at the whiteness of her breasts contrasted with her summer tan. Her areolas were large, pale beige with protruding nipples strutting excitedly at me. Their very slight sag evidenced a naturalness which enthralled me.

"Do you like looking at my breasts? I hope so—I'm getting wet looking at you watch me show myself." She had placed a hand under each breast and seeming to offer them to me, she moved her thumbs over her nipples.

"I like to touch myself," she continued massaging the erect nipples. "Do you like to touch yourself?" Cindy was looking directly at my swollen cock trying to free itself (and me wanting to aid and abet its doing so).

By her demeanor and language I could tell Cindy was feeling the exaltation of voluptuousness. She was reveling in her ability to create the intense craving I was experiencing in anticipating seeing more of her. Cindy spoke with a new, different voice, almost hissing at me, "take out your penis and show it to me, NOW."

Her hands left her stiff, excited nipples. She slouched down a bit, her legs coming closer to me. She placed one pedicured foot on each of my knees. I was rewarded with the resumption of a clear sight path to her crotch.

There was a dark circle of moisture at the center of her panties obviously seeping from her pussy's lips which were vaguely visible beneath the shear, damp fabric.

I was fascinated. Cindy, though perhaps enamored with my rapt attention to her crotch and tits, ordered me to "take it out; stop rubbing it thru your shorts. I want to how much I turn you on."

Awakening, I got into the sensuality of the situation; I took off my tee shirt and slowly slid my shorts down my hips, macho as possible, while staring at her almost nude form, It seemed so erotic to me seeing her moist panties that when my shorts freed my bouncing cock, I wanted to grasp it's length, stroke it and feel the ecstasy building in my balls.

After tossing my shorts to the side, I looked over at Cindy. I almost lost it. She had cast off her tiny skirt and thrown her long legs apart—one on top of the back of the couch and the other pointing toward the floor. Her breasts seemed so very white against her tan. Looking downward at her body, teasing myself, I saw more whiteness-- the area covered by her bikini bottom, so much brighter than its tanned surroundings.

I then realized she was holding her panties out to me. I reached for them mesmerized by her nakedness. It was then that I saw an amazingly erotic contrast: The starkness of her dark, matted pubic hair against her white groin was pure sexuality. I lay back against my armrest, stretched out my legs and took hold the shaft of my dick. I was rock hard and close.

Cindy smiled and said "they're a present to you." I dumbly realized I was holding her panties in my right hand. I looked at them and brought them to my nose; I sought the damp spots and sniffed Cindy's essence. I looked at her saw that she was feeling her sensual power—her breasts and crotch were thrust out at me and slim fingers from both hands were opening her pussy lips to me. She moved them against each other, sights of glistening pink wetness peeking at me.

Cindy looked down at my crotch, licked her lower lip and whispered, "go ahead, keep pulling on that cock for me." I realized that I was stroking my dick and her words were an aphrodisiac to me—the visuals—her breasts, her hair encircled slit, all leading me to the edge. There was stuff dripping from the purple head of my cock, I used it as an oil to anoint the length of my shaft. My right hand (I'm a lefty) cupped my testicles;they were retreating to shoot their load.

Cindy apparently approved of my efforts. I was in rapture watching her busy fingers. Three fingers of her right hand were rubbing her now reddened clitoris in a circular motion; the index and middle fingers of her left hand were moving in a slower pattern, in and out of her vagina. Partially deafened by the sensuous stimuli, I vaguely heard her voice:

"Come on, pull on that hot cock—look at my hot pussy--look at me doing it. Shoot cum at me."

I was there, oh was I there, the indescribable excruciating wonderful sensation of orgasm, I felt it rising, exploding... I started to spurt semen towards Cindy's wanton nakedness. She was looking directly at my spewing dick, her fingers a blur... she grimaced, moaned, threw her head back and screamed, "Oh, I'm there, I'm fucking THERE."

I was lying back, spent, as they say in the seamier novels. Cindy was prostrate, breathing heavily; her breasts were flattened somewhat, nipples tight and erect; her legs still wide apart, well groomed pussy wide open, engorged, bright pink, with shimmering juices sparkling on her dark pubic hair.

We lay there for an unknown period of time. Me, trying to emblazon Cindy's body into my memory for future "reference." She-- who knows? I hoped she was OK.

Startling me out of my daze, Cindy sprang up and grabbed her clothing. She looked at the mantle clock and exclaimed: "oh shit, I've got to pick up Alex at the sitter's." She rushed into the bathroom.

Emerging, flushed, but looking fresh, she hugged me briefly and said "thanks, that was fun." I was still in a stupor, but I managed a smile and pompously mumbled, "don't mention it."

As I walked her down the stairs to the door, she looked up at me, grinned, and said "I had a great time; don't worry, you never laid a hand on me."

Since that evening, Cindy hasn't since flirted with me. She says hi and howarya, nothing more.

I did see her recently in the alley. She was getting into her Audi, dressed very chic, business-like. She told me she was working with a Fortune 500 company and was off to LA.I asked how long she'd be away. She arched her perfect brows and said:

"5 days, time enough for you to practice up." I'm still bewildered at her meaning, but practicing, just in case....