Summers in Louisiana are almost indescribably hot. It's a cliché, I know, but its not so much the heat as the humidity. Ninety five degrees on the Fahrenheit scale with 100% humidity is just something you have to experience to believe. Walking from a cool room to the outside feels like you're walking into a blast furnace, its even hard to breath with that much hot water in the air.
A lot of people in the neighborhood had pools, but not us. My father had a friend whose son died in the pool when they weren't home and he had been terrified of them ever since. Honestly, the only thing I can ever remember him flat out refusing to get for us was a pool. But there was always a neighbor or two that wouldn't mind if I came over to swim.
Pools in the area were one of two kinds: In ground or above ground. The above ground pools were a lot less expensive, but had one major flaw: after the first couple of months of summer the water would get so hot in the pool it was barely worth getting in, or in fact sometimes it was more miserable in the pool than out. Most of the people that got these pools tried building an elevated deck around them to give some shade and keep them from getting too hot. It worked, after a fashion, but they weren't nearly as cool as the in ground pools.
The decks though, the decks could be a lot of fun. Since they were elevated and my bedroom window could look out over them, I could watch the women sunbathe from the comfort of my room. I remember the first time I saw Mrs. Sanders sunbathing in the nude. She always seemed old to me, and never dressed very well. When you're that age you don't really look at your parents friends like that, but seeing her rubbing oil on herself in the sun changed all of that. She had huge tits! The biggest I had ever seen at the time, not that I had a lot to compare it to at that age. But man, those were something to look at. I ran and got my field glasses from the top of my closet and got a better look.
By this time she was laying on her back with a damp cloth across her face to keep it from burning. She was completely naked on that deck chair. Her neatly trimmed bush was just thick enough to keep me from seeing her pussy at that angle. But those magnificent breasts of hers were something to see. Lying on her back they had spread out and drooped to the sides just a bit. Sun warmed, the nipples were dark and soft and just a little bit puffy. They stood out in fantastic contrast to her slightly freckled breasts. From two houses away, she had no tan lines that I could see, even with my binoculars.
Of course Mrs. Sanders wasn't the only sight to see back in those days. The Wilson's had twin daughters a couple of years older than me. They were already off to college, but when they would come back in town they would spend all day on their patio around their in ground pool sunning. They weren't nearly as bold as Mrs. Sanders, but if I watched long enough I could catch a bare breast or maybe a little ass as they were refastening their bikinis. My favorite was when I caught them right as they were going out for the day. I used to love to watch them rub suntan lotion on themselves and each other. Man that was hot.
I went over there a few times when they were out to try to get an invite to swim, but they never did invite me. Everyone knew the Wilsons weren't very friendly. Their daughters especially had gotten very cold to everyone since they had gone to college a couple of years ago. Every time they came home they treated everyone from the area as uneducated peasants. In their defense, many of them were.
But one day a bolder plan came to my mind. Remember I was just 18 at the time and had not had a lot of experience, and wasn't very self-confident yet. So I still felt I needed to have a plan! If old Mrs. Sanders was going to show me those great big tits of hers every day, I might as well try to do something about it.
I say she was old, but she really wasn't that old. She couldn't have been more than 42 at the most. That just seems really old when you're 18.
So one day, I waited until she is out on her deck, reading her book with her bikini tossed carelessly on the chair next to her. She always brought it out with her, but rarely had it on even to go to and from the house. They had a wooden privacy fence around the house (that I helped build one summer) and I guess she thought it was a lot more private than it was. Round about her third glass of wine, I figured it was safe to go over there. Most days all she seemed to do was lay around the pool, read her books and drink wine.
I walked around the back of the houses, with my swimming trunks on and a towel over my shoulder. I knocked on the back gate to her fence and called loudly "Mrs. Sanders, are you out here today?"
"Yes", she called back. "Is that Paul?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Can I come in?" (See here, I thought being polite would aid my cause. Mighty crafty, right?)
"Ugh, give me a second"
She sounded a little flustered. There was some rustling and even a little grunting going on. I had figured when I knocked she would put her suit back on, but I hadn't expected it to take this long. Just when I was starting to get impatient, I heard her say to come in.
"Hey, sorry about that Paul. I just needed to... adjust myself. I wanted to make sure I was decent." What can I do for you?" Her words were a little more slurred than I was expecting. I looked down at her glass and realized that she was drinking margaritas, not wine. Ready for a fourth one, with her frame, she must have been feeling the booze pretty good.
"Well you look really decent to me," I said with an exaggerated wink that probably looked a lot more pathetic than cool. "I was wondering if it was okay if I swam for a little while."
"Oh, well I guess." She said. "The water's pretty hot right now. I rarely go in myself anymore this time of year. I just usually sit outside reading my book."
I guess at this point you deserve a better explanation of what she looked like. As I mentioned she was about 42 and definitely was not past her prime. I've always appreciated older women though. She had that glow of health and sexuality that some women get right around 40. I had never noticed her before she started sunbathing for me, because she was prone to wearing large baggy clothing around the neighborhood. Sometimes I would catch glimpse of her dressed up and ready to go out and I was always surprised at how sexy she looked. She had slightly curly, dirty blonde hair that hung past her shoulders, a slender frame with nicely curving hips and of course the magnificent breasts that I mentioned earlier. Her stomach was nice and flat, especially for someone her age, but her legs weren't as toned as they could have been. Her thighs, in particular, were a bit thick. She had lovely bronzed skin that was freckled nicely from too much sun over too many years and it added to her appeal.
She was pretty much the neighborhood lush. She drank too much and had a tendency to make scenes at parties, sometimes hitting on the husbands of some of the other women in the neighborhood. Most people thought of her as fun and the life of the party, but there were a couple of the wives that held a grudge for taking things one step too far with their husbands. And there were more than a few husbands that would have loved to take it further.
Today she had a really glassy, far off look in her eyes. She was standing to great me, but she didn't look overly steady. She was slurring her words and I had a feeling that she had has several cocktails that I had not seen. Although her modest black bikini was on and tied, it was obvious that it was a rushed and clumsy job. None of her naughty bits were showing, but that's not to say that it wasn't a site to behold. Her ample breasts were not evenly cupped by her top, and her bottom was tied loosely and promised a great view from the right angle.
"Gee, thanks Mrs. Sanders. I hope I'm not intruding. But I just have to get in a pool or die of this heat."
"It's no problem, Paul", she said in a slightly distant way. She half turned and half plopped back down onto the chaise lounge she was laying on before I arrived. She gave me a very appreciative glance from head to foot. I was in a short pair of swim trunks and my chest was bare. I worked hard on a farm most weekends and had toned up nicely over the last year. I was starting to get more looks from more attractive women and more dates too. "Call me Irene."
"Oh, thanks Irene. Would you like me to go in and refill your drink? It looks like you're out."
"Sure," she said handing me her glass with the exaggerated gesture of a drunk person. "Make one for yourself while you're in there."
"Thanks, I will."
