I drove home from the airport after midnight. It had taken me twenty frustrating minutes to find my car. Hanoi to Hong Kong, seven hours, Hong Kong to Toronto, fifteen hours, and an hour in the car. I didn't even know what time it was supposed to be, and I couldn't keep my eyes open. I opened the windows, the sunroof, cranked some AC/DC, anything to stay awake; I even tried jerking off about that flight attendant I'd hung out with in the galley, somewhere over the Pacific, her blouse, with one extra button undone, showing lovely cleavage while crouching down to organize the drink cart. Still, my eyes were closing on their own when I pulled into the driveway.
There was a light on next door. My neighbour, Barb, was in her kitchen. She was wearing a tight, white t-shirt that hugged her curves and stopped just short of her ass. A little rush of adrenaline perked me up and I paused to sneak a peak. It was a hot night and she was drinking a glass of water. She walked over to the patio door and I could see her reflection, those big boobs stretching the thin fabric. She was looking at her reflection too. It was a lovely sight until she switched off the light, my cue to stop being a Peeping Tom and get some sleep.
In the morning I had coffee on the porch, trying not to surrender to the jet lag. Barb carried her blue bin to the curb in a short, silky robe. She and her husband, Dave, were retired; they'd moved in last fall. They had lots of friends and were very a nice older couple, always together, always happy. She set the bin down with perfect form, chest up, butt back, a slight bend in her knees, her robe barely covering her firm, round ass, like a pinup model. She waved to me on her way back. I enjoyed my coffee and contemplated a week at home without my wife and nothing much to do. I also thought about how horny I was.
Later, upstairs, getting a towel and my old swim team Speedo that Wifey hates so much, I saw Barb climb out of her pool. She had to be in her sixties, but that body was fit and plump in all the right places, and that stringy bikini was two sizes too small for her. As she toweled off, her big boobs swayed. The white towel contrasting nicely against her tanned skin, and dirty-blonde hair, wet from the pool. I imagined her in high school, a hippie chick on her boyfriend's shoulders, flashing those tits at a Zeppelin concert, hoping for a backstage pass so she could fuck the band.
She walked to the clothesline next to the fence between our yards and threw her towel over the line, next to some white sheets that were already drying, obscuring my view. Then she looked around and reached back, tugging on the string of her top and pulling it over her head. As she tossed it over the line, her body was silhouetted behind a sheet, back-lit by the mid-morning sun. She paused and then with a devilish look she shook her hair side to side, biting her lip while looking straight ahead, as if performing for someone, then she dropped her bottoms and tossed them on the line too. Now, naked, she stood there, less exposed to me than when she climbed out of the pool but somehow more, and with a sly smile she turned and disappeared from sight. She was a good fifteen years older than me, but I still got hard replaying that scene in my mind.
I went out to the cabana and made myself a Daiquiri before setting up in my lounger by the pool, aligning it to the sun, putting on headphones, and closing my eyes. I dozed off to some ambient music -- Music for Airports - thinking about my sexy neighbour. It occurred to me she always wore revealing clothes, low-cut tops, short skirts, tight sweaters, etc. She would get into a downward dog pose in her Daisy Dukes while gardening, knees spread wide, as she reached for a weed. I wondered if she was an exhibitionist.
I fell asleep in the sun and was soon having a very vivid dream: a Sauble Beach sunset, my old Bimmer parked on the sand, top down, long may you run, endless, sun-bleached summers, beaches, and back roads.
The memories get better with age: fucking in a tent, in the rain, while pine cones thudded down like hail on the rain-fly, my high-school swim team girlfriend, ass up, peaking out the tent and carrying on a casual conversation with her best friend, who was outside, making coffee under a tarp, while we fucked. The big, dumb, horny jock I was, listening to them carry on while her pussy gripped my cock like a vice, and she feigned indifference. My hands almost fit around her tiny waist. When I came all over her ass cheeks, I slapped them with my cock loud enough for her giggling friend to ask what was going on in there. Then she unzipped the tent and sprinted to the lake, splashing into the deep, cool water. I followed, streaking across the campsite. Her friend, laughing, joining us for an early morning skinny dip while the rest of our gang slept off their hangovers, and the rain poured down.
Images flickered randomly through my brain as if floating in a 3D, overexposed, Kodachrome, heat, jet lag and rum induced acid trip slide show of my life. But someone was calling my name! A beautiful girl, coming out of the surf, naked. She was waving as she ran towards me. Where was I? Who was she? Her boobs bouncing as she ran in slow motion, 1970s string bikini tan lines, long, blonde hair, impossible lens flare, funky sun rays, hazy, diffused, colourful starbursts, and polygons, projected through the entire golden, sunglasses filtered scene.
"Jay! Jay!" the voice getting louder. The beautiful stranger crashed into the warm sand at my feet, splashing my legs with sand and salty drops of water from her wet body. I could taste the salt on my tongue and my nostrils filled with the fragrance of coconut oil on tanned skin.
"Jay! Wake up! You're getting burnt! And I need a drink!"
I woke up and there was someone calling my name. It was Barb. She was looking over the top of the fence, in a wide brimmed hat and oversize, red-framed, knock-off Wayfarers, smiling. A baby blue bikini with big white polka dots, framed above the white picket fence and the blue, cloudless sky, a seashell necklace dangling deep into her dark, freckled cleavage.
"Hey, sorry! Your ice is melting and you're getting burnt. Let's have a Mojito. I'll push some mint through the fence, there's lots," her high, girly voice didn't seem to match her age.
"Barb, wow, thanks, I do need sunscreen. Mojitos are a great idea. Let's do it."
We hadn't really hung out much, but we would pass drinks back and forth occasionally and chatted a bit since they moved in. I was getting up when I realized I had an obvious hard-on.
"Come on Jay, here's the mint," she was pushing a bunch of mint through the fence with her foot. I wondered how long she'd stood there before waking me up. Was she looking at my hard-on while I slept? Was it bulging in my briefs?
"Okay, one second, I got a head rush."
"Oh, I know," she giggled.
I finally stood up and got to the relative cover of the fence. I thought about how close I was to her with my boner, as we chatted. Here we were, almost naked, standing closer to one other than we would have been had there not been a few wooden boards between us. I crouched down to pick some mint, her foot was tanned and had little flip-flop tan-lines, and her toenails had a fresh coat of red paint. She wore a dangly silver ankle bracelet with charms on it and I could smell coconut oil. She kept her foot there as I picked the mint from in between her wiggling toes.
"Why don't you come over? Does Dave want one too?"
"Sure! But Dave's not here."
I went to the cabana to mix the drinks. Barb came through the gate with a beach towel and spread it out on the lounger next to mine, then she came over to my little Tiki bar and plopped down on a stool, like a regular. I was now the cabana boy at an all-inclusive. I muddled the mint in the bottom of our glasses until it was a fine, muddled mess.
"Jay, where have you been?"
"On the road for a few weeks. Now I'm super crazy jet lagged. That's why I'm working so hard."
"I can see you're working hard."
"And I see you're working hard too, on your tan."
"Thanks Jay. Coconut oil. SPF Zero."
"I know. Nothing smells better."
"Nothing? Really?"
I presented her drink, with a slice of lime and some mint leaves for garnish, on a wooden coaster from somewhere, like a real bartender.
"Thank-you, young man. You know just how I like it. You'll get a big tip later."
Comfortable in our lounge chairs, Barb was reading some book club book, with an ambiguous sounding title; probably an oblique reference to something in the story, but I wasn't about to tease my new friend about her summer reading list. I only read stuff that ends with 'then strain into a chilled glass with lots of cracked ice'.
"Jay, I love your old-school bathing suit. You never wear it. Not many guys could pull that off!"
"Wifey hates it so I only wear it when she's away."
"People are way too covered up these days, besides, it really fits you," she added. "It took me some effort to wake you up. I even flicked water at you. You must have been having a great dream! What was it about?"
"I don't know. It was pretty random."
"Really, you were enjoying it. I felt bad waking you up, but you don't want to burn those big shoulders. It's going to be a long, hot summer."
"I'm glad you got me up."
"Hmm."
A mixture of sweat and coconut oil formed a tiny little pool on her belly. I thought about what that would taste like. She went back to her book, I put some Jimmy Buffett on the outdoor speakers and grabbed the summer edition of 'Food & Drink', the most popular magazine in Ontario. I only read it for the pictures.
We hung out all afternoon and decided that because we were both "single" for a few days we'd have dinner together. I would burn some meat on the grill, and she'd do everything else, a perfect plan.
At around four o'clock I noticed a big, fluffy cloud on the horizon. It was perched atop the roof of the cabana like a giant dollop of whipped cream. There was a girl on a surfboard riding a wave in the cloud and I wondered what Barb would bring for dessert. The sun was like a blast furnace and I went to freshen up our drinks as Barb flipped over and undid her top. I rubbed my dick with one hand and stirred the drinks with the other. Her legs were spread wide and her thong disappeared between her butt cheeks.
Returning, I noticed a temporary tattoo on her ass. It was small and looked like a spade from a deck of cards but with a design in it.
"Nice tattoo."
"Tattoo? Oh! It's still there? Dave got it for me for a party last week. I can't believe it's still there!"
"It's fading. A party?"
"It was just for fun," before adding, "a pool party."
"I could never commit to a real one, but I like the idea of a temporary one."
"Same. Too much of a commitment," Barb said, getting up on her elbows to sip, giving me a glorious side-boob view.
"Jay, would you mind putting some oil on my back?" she asked, passing me a slippery plastic bottle of coconut oil.
"Sure."
"It's a spray, so you can just spray it on."
Was there an option? Did she want me to rub it in? I sprayed a shiny coat all over her back.
"Do you want some on your legs too?"
"Of course, silly."
I pumped that spray nozzle until she glistened in the sun and my finger was sore. The air was filled with the smell of coconut and hot, tanned skin.
