The Saturday after a hard week at work dawned with the promise of glorious weather. By mid-morning I had finished my essential chores and the sun was shining warmly, beckoning me into the garden. Unable to resist the lure of a lazy day's sun worship, I showered and put on a red, two-piece bikini that I'd bought during the winter months in anticipation of a beach holiday later in the year. A silk sarong and dark sun-glasses completed my outfit.
The mirror at the foot of my bed showed me a surprisingly pleasing image of myself. My short, black hair was drying rapidly in a way that looked styled, my boobs looked perky and my tummy, although shockingly pale had lost most of the weight I'd put on during the party season. I don't have a model body, not unless you count the wonderful Campaign for Real Beauty women, but I've never been unhappy with my curves. My tummy is round, but not big or saggy, my hips and thighs curve smoothly down into good calves, my breasts are large and full and I'm very happy with my skin. I'm told I have a pretty face, but I've always thought it quite average, even so, with happy thoughts in my head I couldn't help but smile at myself in the mirror, and for a few moments I could see the attractiveness that I'd normally overlook.
I am very lucky that my home is a pretty cottage, located on the edge of a small town overlooking little but a large stream at the end of the garden and woods and fields beyond. Rarely would anyone use the footpath which ran between the end of my garden and the stream, but today there were a couple of young men sat fishing a short way upstream where it widens and deepens to pass a small island. As I looked out from my window, one of the lads looked over his shoulder towards me and turned quickly away when he saw me looking back at him. In that moment I felt a flutter of excitement in my chest. Had he been watching me while I dressed after my shower? Had he seen me naked? Did he like what he'd seen? Was he as good-looking as he appeared from up here?
With these and similar thoughts running through my mind, I grabbed a book from my shelves, hurried downstairs and took a bottle of European beer from my fridge. By now I'd worked myself up a bit and was in two minds about going out, but I told myself that it was my garden and I should just enjoy the weather while I had the chance. So I walked out through the patio doors, put my book and beer down and fetched the garden furniture from one of the out-buildings.
Just as I was about to settle down on my lounger, I thought I saw movement from the bottom of the garden. I stood up on my tippy toes and tried to see better, but the small hedge at the bottom blocked my view. I walked halfway down the lawn, but still couldn't see anything so I made my way back to where my beer was warming in the sunshine. I took a quick drink from the bottle and lay back. As I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin, I realised that I was feeling very sexy, and maybe, perhaps a little bit daring? Another mouthful of warm beer, another couple of minutes thinking about the man I'd seen from my window. Were he and his friend watching me through the hedge? Would they do or say anything if I took off my top?
I put my bottle down, sat up and reached behind my back to untie the strap. Pulling the top clear from where it was held beneath my boobs, I lifted it over my head and dropped it besides the forgotten book. A feeling of excitement, mixed with unexpected liberty and the sheer pleasure of the warmth on my nipples crept through me as I put my hands behind my head and stretched. Was that a sound, or movement by the stream? I didn't care anymore. I just lay back, took my shades off and closed my eyes.
It felt so pleasant lying there. My nipples were very excited and I let me hands wander up to my boobs, pushing them down flat, then up and together, squeezing my nipples and pulling them until they were hard and red, before running my fingers gently around them, sending tingles down my spine to my pussy. With everything else forgotten, I massaged and fussed and played with my boobs, turning myself on more and more with every pull and twist and squeeze.
I let one hand push my sarong open and run down my tummy, tickling gently as it went, whilst I lifted my beer bottle back up with the other and rolled it back and forth across my chest spilling lager and condensation over my tits as it went. My other hand brushed down to my thighs, touching and tickling there before returning to my mound, brushing against my fanny as it went. I rubbed my mound firmly, working down until I could feel the top of my crack through the material of my bikini bottoms. I moved my thumb and finger down further, pinching and rubbing my lips together until my clit had swollen and was being pressed between them.
I poured the rest of the beer over my chest and it ran down my front as I discarded the bottle and moved my hand back to my slippery, wet breasts. Parting my legs, I eased my hand into my bikini bottoms and let out a small gasp as I parted my outer lips and slid my finger in between the lusciously sensitive inner ones towards my vagina. Dipping my finger inside myself, I lubricated my finger and thumb before pinching my inner lips between them, rubbing them together, working slowly up to my magic button. As I squeezed and rubbed my clitoris I let out another moan and began playing with my nipples more vigorously.
Suddenly my bikini bottoms felt too restrictive - they had to come off. They were quickly on the floor, my legs wide open, and my fingers back to my pussy. Now I needed both hands: one rubbing my clit and the other dipping inside me, pushing against my g-spot and back out again. As I felt my orgasm starting I opened my eyes and my hearted jumped. The lad I'd seen from my window was just walking past the bottom of my garden, and he was turning to look at me!
I snapped my legs together and reached out for my beer bottle, groping and searching for it with my fingers as I tried vainly to hide my guilt.
"Great day for it" he said, smiling at me with amusement in his beautiful grey eyes. Now he was so much closer, I could see that he was about 20, only a couple of years younger than me, and very good looking.
"I, I, I was just..." I began.
"Hey, no problem," he replied, "everybody does it."
"Good fishing?" I asked stupidly, unable to think of anything better to say.
