Let me start off with a bit of background. My name is Ben and I have just, reluctantly accepted that I have now crept into my sixties. I've been retired now for a year, and sadly, my wife having died a couple of years ago, I have accepted that my life was one of golf, a few beers and solitary evenings.
I live in a 4 bedroom detached house in a road of similar properties, although over the years each one had been extended so they bore very little similarity to each other. I rattle around in the house a bit, but it is useful when my kids and grandkids come to stay and it has a great garden with only fields behind. I should have moved to something smaller and more manageable really, but the house and garden contained so many memories that I knew to leave would be heart wrenching.
The garden in particular was my wife's pride and joy, she would spend hours in it, on her hands and knees, planting, weeding, tidying and it had grown into a haven over the years. I struggled to keep it as immaculate, but I tried all the same.
I had good neighbours on one side, Pete and Mary who were a bit younger than me. They had two daughters who were now grown up, the elder Becca had moved to New Zealand with her boyfriend, now husband, and Gina who was just finishing university. I would play the odd game of golf with Pete, and was on good terms with Mary, we'd chat out the front when we saw each other, but there was a six foot fence running down between our two properties so conversation over or through that was kept to the odd "Morning, how's it going?"
They had suffered particularly badly in lockdown as Becca had given birth to their first grandchild and they had not seen him yet in the flesh. Plenty of Facetime calls, but they hadn't held him and were impatient to get out there as soon as New Zealand opened its borders.
One day they excitedly collared me and announced that they were actually going! They'd booked flights and were going for two months over our summer, leaving in July. "Is there anything I can do for you while you're away?" I asked.
"It should be fine thanks, Gina will be home and will look after the place, but can I just ask you to keep an eye on her. You know she can be a bit scatter-brained at times. You know the sort of things, make sure the right bins are out, and prod her to cut the grass occasionally. You've got a key anyway, she'll be constantly locking herself out if past experience is anything to go by."
"No worries, make sure to have a good time won't you?"
Summer arrived and Gina returned home from university. She was now 22 and had matured into a lovely young woman, she was about 5 feet 6, with a beautifully lithe body, perky bum and a fabulous pair of what appeared to be B or C cup breasts. Her hair was shoulder length and light brown/dark blonde. She had a gorgeous smile and a lively personality. She was going to make someone a good catch one day.
The day came and Pete and Mary set off. By way of a bit more background I have to admit to having always been a bit of a voyeur. I find it arousing to see people in intimate situations. Not that I'm a peeping Tom (too scared of being caught), but nothing would give me greater pleasure that seeing a bit of flesh exposed unintentionally. Beaches had always been a good source of material for the wank bank. Boobs slipping out from under towels whilst changing, and especially the odd flash of pubic hair gave me an amazing sexual charge.
Our two houses had been built in mirror fashion and both had large windows on the half landing, facing each other. Pete and Mary had opted for privacy and had changed the glass for frosted glass, but we just had a light muslin curtain draped over half the window. They had also installed an en-suite shower room at the back of their bedroom and this had a smallish frosted window, also overlooked by our landing window. I had often seen that window illuminated and could vaguely make out shapes behind it, but nothing really distinctly. However the thought of Mary, naked behind it had occasionally sprung to mind.
The landing window also overlooked part of their back patio and garden. They were not great sunbathers, but there was the occasional glimpse of flesh from Mary in shorts and boob tube or similar, and given the impending summer I wondered if I might be getting more than an eyeful of the delectable Gina.
A week or so after their departure I was hanging around the house one afternoon, doing a bit of reading, when there was a knock on the door. It was Gina dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts and a baggy crop top shirt, the bottom of which hung perpendicularly down, not quite getting as far as her waist. Trying to stop my tongue lolling out of my mouth and hastily drawing my eyeballs back into my head, I greeted her, "Hi Gina how's it going?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you Ben but I've got a bit of a problem and I don't know what to do. Could you possibly help?"
"Sure, what's the issue?"
"Well something seems to have sprung a leak in the kitchen and I can't find it, and even if I could I don't think I'd know what to do to stop it. If Mum's kitchen gets damaged there'll be hell to pay."
"Let me just grab a key and I'll come round." So saying I found a front door key and closed the door behind me, and following her, trying not to focus on that sweet derriere, I went next door. The problem seemed to be under the sink, there was a small puddle on the floor, Gina had emptied the cupboard below the sink and the door stood wide open. Bending down I peered into the cavity but really could see little from that angle. "You may have to help me up from this," I said and went down on my knees, rolled over and wriggled on my back headfirst into the cupboard.
The drip was coming from the waste pipe rather than the mains pipe which made it all a lot simpler. I reached up and unscrewed the plastic fitting, seeing that a washer had become pinched slightly. I released it and carefully reassembled the joint. "Let's see if it works before I get out of here. Can you turn the tap on please Gina?" She stepped astride me and leant forward to reach the tap. My heart skipped a beat as I realised I was looking straight up the leg of her shorts at a pair of white panties fitted snugly around her crotch. I could also see up her shirt to the bottoms of those breasts, bra enclosed, but nevertheless an enticing sight. My cock began to tent in my own shorts and I knew I was going to get out of there fast before she saw.
The leak seemed to be fixed and wriggling swiftly out I held out my hand and she helped pull me to my feet. "All fixed I think, but keep an eye on it."
"Thanks Ben, that's so helpful. I don't know what I would have done had you not been around."
"No worries, anytime. I'm around most days except Monday, Wednesday and Friday when I play golf."