All characters and portrayals of sexual situations in this story include only characters age 18 or above.
It was finally time to move. We'd long since outgrown this house but didn't want to move until our youngest graduated high school. With that finally complete and her off to college, it was time to move to a house that would provide us space for my workshop, my wife's workout room and still have enough guest space for three young families with the hope of plenty of grandkids. We looked for a while before finding what we thought was the perfect spot. It was a brand new subdivision. True it wasn't very close to town, but the pie shaped lot we chose backed up to the border of fifty thousand acres of national forest. From the backyard, we could see across the valley almost five miles to the next ridgetop. In the morning, when the sun was rising over the trees, it was incredibly beautiful. The morning we looked at the lot a heavy fog blanketed the depths of the valley, fed by the stream that apparently ran down through it.
There wasn't much front yard, but there was well over an acre and a half of backyard. The lots on either side of us were not quite as large, but both had a lot more front yard, and what I wanted was plenty of room for the grandkids to play. We worked with the builder to design what we thought was the perfect house. Two stories with an unfinished basement, a large patio the width of the house and a second story covered deck that ran the width of the house, only accessible by French doors from the master bedroom and another set on the other end from a guest room we planned to use as our workout room. From there, we could use our exercise equipment and watch the sun come up over the far ridgeline.
The master bath was big. A lot bigger than I had expected my wife to want, but she was tired of living with two little bathrooms. Twin shower heads in a walk-in shower with independent temperature controls, twin vanities and a large triangular whirlpool tub. The new bathroom was easily as large as our master bedroom had been in the old house.
We chose to leave the basement unfinished, with just the drain plumbing for a bathroom roughed in, assuming that I'd put in the additional two bedrooms, the family room and the workshop, adding almost another thousand square feet of living space to the existing twenty-five hundred of the main and upper floors.
A month before we were to move in construction started on the lot to our left. I didn't really mind too much, except when I saw the excavation for the in-ground pool. Since a portion of the view of the valley was across the back corner of the yard, if they constructed the typical six-foot dog-ear wood privacy fence, we'd loose a considerable amount of the view from the back patio. There was of course nothing I could do about it, but grouse. Not exactly the best way to start things with new neighbors we hadn't even met yet. My fears were allayed as construction progressed, and instead of a six foot wooden fence, a six foot chain link fence was put up, still allowing a good amount of view to be had, from both of our houses, as well as providing the requisite security insurance companies demanded of in-ground pools, one of the reasons we had decided that we'd do an above ground pool once the grandkids got old enough to enjoy it.
By the time we moved in, nearly half the lots in the subdivision had been sold and were being built on. We got settled in and watched the progress in the neighborhood. The house next door was also a two story. I'd poked around a little to try and figure out the floor plan, and what you could and couldn't see in our house. We had the large French doors facing the backyard, and I was mostly concerned that we'd be forced to put curtains on the door, spoiling the view we had already come to love first thing in the morning. In the end, I decided that the only thing you could see, other than the side window of the master, which WAS curtained, was into the master bathroom at a pretty significant angle, and even then, only if the bathroom door was open and only from their much smaller second story balcony. All in all, we weren't going to need to curtain either the French door or the picture window over the tub.
We watched the moving van arrive on a Friday morning as we were leaving for work. By the time we got home, the van was just about ready to leave. My wife, Nancy, headed into the house to get dinner going while I decided to go over and introduce myself to our new neighbors. Not that I was LOOKING to make new friends, but I figured being on decent terms with your neighbors couldn't hurt. Besides, my wife insisted! Case closed.
I walked up the driveway, loosening my tie as I headed for the garage clearly full of boxes yet. I was greeted by an incredible sight. I stopped at the garage door and stared. She wore a pair of what I call micro shorts. You know the kind, no leg, like underwear? The legs on her shorts were so short that I doubted they were longer than her crotch. The blue spandex was stretched tightly across an incredible looking butt and pulled tightly against her pussy. So tight in fact that the seam clearly pulled into her pussy between her lips, in what kids today called a camel toe. It wasn't intentional, but I could feel my dick start to harden at the sight. I was still staring at her when she stood up and turned around, a box in her arms.
She cried out at the surprise of someone standing only ten feet or so from her and nearly dropped the box. I apologized for startling her and introduced myself. She set the box down, revealing she was wearing a tight spandex top, clearly soaked with sweat, the thin damp material outlining not only her nipples, but the shape and size of her areola, even though the multicolor pattern didn't allow me to see much more. She obviously didn't have a bra on under the bare midriff top, and I guessed her breasts had to be something on the order of a thirty-six D, a full two cup sizes smaller than my wife's thirty-eight triple D's. I did my best to not stare at her tits, although she was clearly staring at the bulge in my slacks as she stepped forward and introduced herself as Jasmine, or Jaz for short. I guessed she had to be about mid thirties or so, as was her husband, who came out of the house a few moments later. Greg was clearly built sturdy. Without a shirt on, I could see his abs and figured he was some kind of workout nut. The three of us chatted for a few minutes before I invited them over for dinner. Obviously, they weren't set up to cook and even fast food was a good fifteen minutes away, round trip.
During dinner we learned that they were both thirty-four, a dozen plus years younger than we were. He was a personal trainer, which explained the chiseled body that my wife was having a hard time keeping her eyes off, and she was a medical records auditor. Not particularly exciting work but they both made plenty of money and hadn't gotten around to starting a family yet but had started thinking about it.
It turned out that we did end up friends. Greg was pretty smart but didn't really have any experience with all the house kind of things, and in exchange for teaching him all that kind of thing, we had a free invitation to use his pool any time we wanted, even if they were using it. The spring turned to summer, and I was treated to watching Jaz creating and tending a number of gardens around her yard. I'd come to realize that she had pretty much three types of clothing she wore. Dresses to work, very nice looking short hemmed dresses that showed lots of cleavage, spandex micro shorts and spandex tops, and bikinis. It wasn't unusual for me to see her out on her hands and knees in the garden wearing some of those spandex shorts with a bikini top that seemed to struggle to hold her boobs in place. When she was sunning or swimming, she had on only the smallest of bikinis and more than once, either working on a garden or swimming, I saw one of her breasts pop out into view. Sometimes I wondered if it happened on purpose.
When it happened in the pool in front of my wife, she would nudge me to make me stop staring, and then chew me out after we got home. But eventually she stopped complaining. I didn't know if she just didn't care any more or if the two of them had hashed something out, or if it was the fact that I'd caught her staring at Greg from the second story balcony while he worked shirtless in the yard, mowing or trimming or whatever. He seemed to always work outside in those really tight, stretchy material shorts that molded to him quite snugly. Whatever the reason, when her boobs happened to pop out, she didn't seem overly anxious to put herself back away, so after a few months I'd gotten quite a few long looks at her boobs.
Unfortunately, summer turned to fall and then winter, and bikini tops were a thing of the past. Now it was long spandex pants, tight sweaters and dresses. Her dresses were ALWAYS nice looking, or more to the point, nice to see her in. One side effect was that when my wife went shopping, she generally took Jaz along, which has resulted in my wife's hemlines getting a bit shorter. And believe me that is NOT a complaint. As our kids were born, she seemed to get more and more conservative in her dress, the nice tight short dresses she once wore a thing of the past, as well as the active sex life we used to enjoy. That too seemed to be having something of a resurgence, along with the short hems. In the last six months she had started to come down in the morning after getting dressed for work, tossing her panties and pantyhose on the counter next to me, indicating she wasn't wearing anything under her dress, as an invitation for a morning quickie before we had to head out to work. At first it was only once in a while, but lately it seemed to be at least twice and sometimes three times a week. I always found her wet and ready, almost as wet as if she had already climaxed once, making me wonder if there was something going on that I was missing. I trusted her implicitly, so I had no worries that she was cheating on me or anything of the sort. It was simply not in her personality to do such a thing. So for now, I'd just enjoy the attention I was getting, and hope it didn't end any time soon.
It was a cold spring day, still well below freezing, when I got a call from Greg to come over and help with an emergency. The washing machine had stopped working and was full of water. I headed over with my tool bag to see what we could do.
I found Greg laying on the floor in front of the washer, with the front compartment door off, poking around. "What's up Greg?" I asked as I followed Jaz to the laundry room.
"Damn thing stopped draining. It's full of water and the pump runs but doesn't want to pump the water out."
"So, let's take a look," I said, laying down on the floor so we could both look into the washing machine. "So, look back there. See the pump?"
"Yeah."
"On the side of the pump, you see that thing that looks like a round bump with two wires on it?'
"Yeah."
"That's the drain valve. Basically, it keeps the water recirculating in the machine until it's ready to drain. So, what we want to do is to put our meter on those wires and see if it's getting turned on."
"Oh. Okay," he said as I sat up and dug the meter out of my tool bag and handed it to him. He reached in with both probes in one hand, extending his arm in about halfway. It took a few moments for him to figure out how to hold both probes so that they both made contact at the same time. "Okay. Now what?"
"Now we tell it to drain and see if we get voltage there," I said, sitting up part way to reach the dials.
"I'll do it!" Jaz said cheerfully, stepping across me, one foot on either side of me. She bent slightly to turn the knobs. When I looked back, or more correctly up, I couldn't believe what I saw. Jaz was wearing a dress, which wasn't unusual, but under the dress she didn't have anything on. Her pussy, every completely shaved detail, was completely exposed. I quickly looked away, embarrassed for both of us, but she continued to stand straddling me. I couldn't help but look back up again, her pussy looking incredible with only the smallest amount of inner labia protruding from her full round smooth lips. It was no wonder she looked so damn hot in those spandex shorts of hers. I could feel my dick growing in my pants as I looked back under the machine as it started to run.
"There. It has voltage. So now let's see if it's switching. Jaz. Can you turn it on and off a few times?"
"Sure!" she answered.
