My routine on Saturday and Sunday mornings is so regular, it almost qualifies as a religious observance. Sleep late. Take a shower. Clean up. Go get bagels. I'm like clockwork.
I know it's not that exciting, but it works for me. I'm a single guy in my 30s, past my party years, and my focus is mainly on my career. Weekend days are for relaxing. Weekend nights are for seeing friends.
Last Saturday I got up, showered, and went to attack the sink full of dishes that had piled up over the course of the week. I live on the top floor of a six-story apartment building, and there is a window right by the kitchen sink. While the view is nothing special (no water, no skylines, no parks), I loved looking out the window while I did the dishes. It is relaxing to look out over the row of attached houses and backyards that spill out from the side of my building.
As I picked up the first plate and began cleaning it, I glanced out my window and immediately saw something new. Sitting in the Henderson's back yard was a woman, a blonde, lying on her back on a lounge sunning herself, wearing a white string bikini. I write "bikini," but it really was more like dental floss attached to two quarter-sized pieces of fabric as a top, and dental floss with fabric the size of half a one dollar bill for a bottom.
From six floors up, I couldn't tell too many details, but certain things were clear. She was blonde. She wasn't fat. Her skin was tan (but not overly so), and her skin looked fantastic, possibly due to the sun tan lotion that made her skin glisten and look so soft. Also, her breasts seemed average, maybe a drop larger, based on how they stood up and out from her chest. She seemed pretty, but it was hard to tell given the distance.
I put her age as early 20s. The Hendersons had moved in a few months ago, and I had heard they were empty nesters with a daughter who was a senior in college. I guess this was the daughter. Mrs. Henderson looked as though she probably turned some heads in her younger days, so it all seemed to make sense.
I was mesmerized by the beauty and sensuality of this woman lying there, absorbing the sun. The only thing that moved was my dick, as it quickly grew to its full six inches and hardened. I turned off the water and watched for a little while, captivated by the sight of the almost-naked girl below me.
I craved to know more, so I dug my binoculars out of the back of the closet, jumped up on the kitchen counter, and focused on my target.
Between the shakiness and lack of clarity of the image, it was hard to see too much more through the binoculars than I had seen with my eyes, but it confirmed that my earlier observations were correct. There was no doubt this woman had a beautiful body and a pretty face.
I ended up putting down the binoculars, and started stroking my cock, slowly but forcefully, mesmerized by my bikini girl. I reached over and put some dish soap in my hand and used it as a lubricant. It felt warm and wet on me, which only made me think more about what was underneath bikini girl's tiny bottoms.
I rubbed my cock for about ten minutes, and bikini girl rolled over, showing off her perfect ass. Well, at least it looked perfect from six floors up. I quickened the pace of my stroking, and about five minutes later, I blew my load, the first burst landing on the window, the rest running over my hands and the sink below.
I cleaned up and finished the dishes, keeping my eye on bikini girl as she adjusted her positions a couple of times over the next half hour, before picking up her towel and walking back into her house. Even her walk was sexy, with an almost imperceptible sway of her butt as she moved across the yard.
When I went on my bagel run, I walked the wrong way, just so I could go by bikini girl's house. I don't know what I was expecting. I guess I thought maybe I'd get lucky and she'd come out of the house just as I walked by. Of course, that didn't happen, and I looped around, picked up my bagels and cream cheese, and headed back to my apartment.
All the rest of that day and night, no matter what happened, my thoughts kept drifting back to bikini girl. I was in a constant state of arousal. I cancelled my plans with my friends and went to bed early.
When I got into bed, all I could think about was making love to her. And, of course, I couldn't help wondering if she would be out there again the next morning. I finally tried to calm myself down by popping in a porn movie and rubbing my cock, but every girl on the screen seemed like a poor substitute for my bikini girl.
I finally turned off the movie, closed my eyes, and thought of her tan, glistening body on the lounge. Her tiny top straining to contain her breasts. Her legs leading up to that tiny patch of white covering her most intimate of places. In minutes I came, imagining it was her hand around my dick.
I finally fell asleep, but was up at 6 a.m., thinking about nothing except whether I would see her again. I jumped in the shower, grabbed my binoculars, and then took up my position on the kitchen counter, waiting for a possible appearance of my bikini girl.
Sure enough, at around 8:30, she bounded out of the house wearing the exact same bathing suit, only it was red. She had two of these micro-bikinis. At least. Wow. I was impressed. She laid on the lounge and closed her eyes. I thought to myself how lucky I was that I had a second opportunity to watch her.
Then, my eyes widened as she moved her hand to her stomach and started sensuously moving her hand up and down, back and forth.
My cock nearly burst through my pants, so I undid my fly and let my hardness pop through.
Bikini girl's hand kept moving back and forth and side to side. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was teasing me. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, she dipped her hand underneath the small strip of fabric covering her pussy. The fabric couldn't hide the motion of her fingers flying up and down.
As great as it was, it was also painful, because I really wanted -- almost needed -- to see what was going on underneath the material. Who thought that a tiny piece of cloth could cause me so much pain!
Then, as quickly as it started, it stopped. Bikini girl matter-of-factly stopped touching herself, pulled her hand from under her bikini bottoms, stood up, and, with no hint of rush, walked into the house, her butt swaying a bit just like last time.
I couldn't move. I was incapacitated by the odd combination of overwhelming arousal and thudding disappointment. Why did she run off so quickly? Why did she stop touching herself? Nothing startled her, it was all so business as usual.
I had to move on. This whole bikini girl thing had taken way too much of my time. The weekend was rapidly moving towards its end, and I couldn't help feeling like I didn't know where the time had gone. I went to my bedroom and started sorting the laundry, determined to salvage what remained of the weekend.
After a few minutes, there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, I thought for sure that my weekend of spying had made me insane. Standing before me was bikini girl. It was really her. I wasn't imagining it.
She had gotten dressed, but barely, in what had to be the shortest terry cloth shorts ever made, a spaghetti string tank top that stopped at the top of her perfect, toned, tanned midriff, and a pair of flip-flops. She held a tiny purse over her shoulder, too.
And, up close, she was, if possible, even better looking than from far away. I could see now that her body was perfect, toned, with no cellulite or flab, but she also wasn't coke-addict skinny. Her body was very feminine, and very sexy. Just as I had suspected, her breasts were a drop bigger than average, nicely filling out her tank top. Her skin was radiant. I noticed that she had the most beautiful hands, almost artistic looking, with sexy deep purple polish on her nails. Her feet, too, were fantastic, tanned, smooth, nicely shaped, and with her suckable toes painted in the same deep purple polish.
But, most of all, what I noticed seeing her up close was her eyes, impossibly blue and seemingly sparkling. These couldn't be contacts. Too much life there. Her eyes just took over the room.
I realized that I had been staring silently at her for some time. She just smiled, waited for me to come to, and then casually said: "I figured, if you were going to watch, you should have a better view."
With that, she stepped into the room and headed directly for the couch. As she walked, she added: "Besides, with a little more privacy, the show can be that much more thorough."
Bikini girl reached the couch, and casual as can be, kicked off her flip-flops, pulled down her shorts, and pulled off her tank top, leaving her in the red micro-bikini. She sat on the couch and started running her hands over her legs, stomach and chest, just as she had in her back yard, strategically avoiding the tiny bit of flesh covered by her tiny bathing suit.
She smiled and said: "Sit down. Get comfortable. Enjoy the show."
It all seemed like a dream, and yet here she was, on my couch, in the tiniest of bathing suits, about to pleasure herself for my (and, of course, her) enjoyment.
I pulled a chair up across from the couch and settled in, my eyes roaming over her body, noticing all the little spots I wanted to lick and kiss. I wanted to taste her neck. I wanted to feel the heft of her breasts in my hand. I wanted to run my tongue across her navel. I wanted to feel the backs of her knees in my hands. I wanted to massage her beautiful feet. Basically, I just wanted to kiss, lick and touch her everywhere.
Bikini girl continued caressing herself, really pampering her body with her hands. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally reached underneath her bathing suit top and started rubbing her left nipple. After a few seconds of intense attention, she switched to the right one, all the time leaving her bikini top on.
I was riveted. My erection was at full force, pushing my pants out. There was no hiding my passion for this girl.
When bikini girl finished her assault on her right nipple, she smiled and said: "Would you prefer to see me without the bathing suit?"
I stammered out a quick "Yes!"
"Somehow, I guessed you might."
Bikini girl stood up, moved the straps of her top over her arms, and then lifted the whole mini-suit over her head, freeing two of the most beautiful breasts I had ever seen in my life. They sat nicely on her chest, and hung just enough that you knew they had to be real.
Before I could recover from the sight of her newly-freed breasts, she hooked her thumbs into either side of her G-string and shimmied the miniscule bottoms down her legs. When she straightened up, I had an eye-level view of her pussy, lips full and pouting, with a small tuft of blonde hair just above her clit. It was a miracle any of her pubic hair could be covered by that tiny suit, but she kept that teasing little patch. It was so erotic looking, I was afraid I was going to start drooling.
