The Neighbours Son Pt 01

My name is Lynette and I am a very successful businesswoman. Until recently, I had moved out of town when I had embarked on a business venture that, unfortunately, did not turn out as successful as I would have liked.

I have returned home and have rekindled a new business with me ex-husband - no we will not be getting back together. We have worked together before and we were a formidable team that made lots of money: he looked after the finances and paperwork while I was the saleswoman. This partnership just works! There's no romance between us. That died years ago.

No, I find myself back in my old, small home that I had rented out for a few years while I worked in another city. Having tenants in the house has enabled me to keep the property but I see that I have to do some maintenance as the property has been let go, particularly in the garden.

My small house is at the end of a very quiet street. The house next-door to mine is own by my very dear friend, Cathy. She is a few years older than me and we have been great friends for years. Re-kindling this friendship is one of the reasons for coming back home. It is strange that we are such good friends - we don't have very much in common. Cathy is a very conservative, church-going citizen. She was widowed three years after the birth of her son, Mathew. Since Cathy doesn't believe in remarrying, she is not interested in seeing other men.

I, on the other hand, love being in relationships with men. I haven't had a serious fling for a couple of years - I was working too hard on my unsuccessful venture - but I do like playing the dating field.

I am in my mid-thirties and I still think that I am attractive. I'm not tall. I am five feet four inches. I don't know what the metric equivalent to that is: I have always measured heights in feet. But I like tall men; the taller the better, as I love to wear my high heeled shoes. I have been told that my long legs look fabulous and I love the way they look when I am in heels.

Like most women, I have a large collection of shoes. My shoes are nearly all heels and when I go out on a date, I wear sexy, tall stilettoes. I like to keep fit by walking and heels shows off my thin, toned calves to perfection. I know that wearing heels is not considered healthy but I do agree that heels changes my posture and I like the "ready for sex" message I am displaying as, to be honest, I am always ready for sex.

My other assets are my natural D-cup breasts. I have often been asked whether I have had some work done to my breasts as they have always been firm and pert. They used to be even firmer than they are now. I suppose that is just a reflection of age as I slowly approach forty-years-old.

I am also a very spiritual person. When I connect with people I tend to form deep, empathetic relationships. Some people think that I can read minds. It's just that I can really sense other people's moods and thoughts.

BACK HOME

The removal van had arrived last week and the two gorgeous men had done a great job of unloading all my stuff. All my furniture was back in the right place - you could even see where my glass-topped table went as the old imprints in the carpet clearly showed where the distinctive glass legs went.

It was my second week back in my home and I had begun sifting through all the boxes of my personal stuff that had been stacked in the garage. I found some boxes of my clothing and decided to sort out my wardrobe.

My bedroom is very feminine with lots of frilly lace on my bedspread and lacy curtains. I have a large feather dream catcher above my headboard. Because I live on my own, I have converted a spare room into a walk-in wardrobe. I have lots of shelving and racks for all my clothing.

I started by finding the boxes of my clothes and carried them up to my room. This was hot, hard work and after a while, I decided to have a break. I opened the boxes and looked through them. One of the first boxes I opened had all my old beachwear.

I recognised all my old Wicked Weasel bikinis. Wicked Weasel makes the smallest micro bikinis. As I looked through the box, I found several of my old favourites. I pulled out an old pink towelling skirt. I remembered wearing this miniskirt years ago. I wondered to myself whether it would still fit. Digging around in the box I came across a favourite pair of black hipster fishnet knickers and a crop-top.

I stripped off what I was wearing and tried these small items on. It was obvious that I was going to have to get groomed again. The little G-string fishnet knickers were see-through and my unruly pussy hairs were clearly visible. It had been some time since I had bothered to take care "down there". I used to get a full Brazilian, Hollywood styled wax every month. You know what I mean: completely bare! I made a mental note to look up my old beauty therapist and book a treatment.

I slipped on my baby pink hot skirt and white matt lycra tank top and looked over at the mirror. After all these years, I still had "the look". My tits looked good in the crop top and they looked even better because I wasn't wearing a bra. I could see the outline of my hard nipples sticking out even though the matt lycra was not see-through.

It was a good time to stop working so I went back down the stairs and out into the carport to put some things away before I closed the garage. Just then, my neighbour, Cathy, popped her head over the low fence that separated our two front yards.

"Hi Lynette, I saw that you are back. Welcome home," she said.

I looked up. Cathy was wearing her usual dark denim skirt and checkered cotton blouse. From what I could remember, I had never seen Cathy dress in anything different. Her long hair was tied back by a nice looking bow. Fortunately, I was standing behind my small, red sports car: Cathy would not have approved of my skirt as it was, in her opinion, way too short! I could see that she was struggling to look at me because of my bare midriff.

"It's good to be back," I replied sounding a little flustered.

"Are you back for good? We must catch up. How many years has it been?"

"I've been away for just over two years. Yes, I'd like to catch up. Just let me unpack. I've got a few jobs to do, but I should be free shortly."

"What jobs do you need doing? Mathew is home from University. I'm sure he would like to help," offered Cathy.

"Oh yes, Mathew. How old is he now?" I enquired.

"He turned twenty-one in August."

"Wow. He was in high school when I saw him last."

Cathy looked up and pointed behind me. "Here he is."

I turned around and saw Mathew riding his bike along the road. He stopped and dismounted when he got to my driveway.

Jeez, this boy had changed since I had last seen him. Gone was the gangly teenager and what stood before me was a beautifully rugged, young man.

Mathew unclipped his cycle helmet and his full head of dark curly hair sprung free. It was a hot day and there was a small wet patch on the front of his cotton T-shirt. He had a pair of shorts and flip-flops. He looked good - really good, and I felt slightly uncomfortable having these stray thoughts about the son of my neighbour. Particularly since Cathy was right there with me!

Cathy broke the silence. "Hi Darling, Lynette was wanting some help with some jobs. Are you free to help her?"

Mathew looked over to me and I was sure that he was mentally undressing me. "Hi, Lynette. What work would you like me to do?" he asked.

"Um, well, I need my back deck and garden tidied up. Would you like to help me? Perhaps next weekend?" I stammered.

I caught Mathew grinning as if he had a private secret, which developed into a gorgeous smile. "I'd love to help," he replied.

I don't know what came over me next, but I had this quick idea to give Mathew one of my business cards so he could contact me. I leant over the door of my convertible car which meant that I had to raise up on the balls of my feet to reach and in and get a business card for him.

My legs were stretched out nicely and I know that Mathew got a good look under my short skirt as the hem raised up. All this took place right in front of Cathy, who would not have had any idea of what I was up to as she was standing behind her fence on the other side of the car.

I handed my card to Mathew and, for a moment, our hands touched. It was if there was a jolt of electricity between us. Mathew had that cheeky grin again. "Thank you," he said.

What was he thanking me for, I thought: the card or the sneak peek under my skirt or both?

I reached over and touched Mathew's arm. "I'll see you next weekend."

"Yes. I'm glad you're back," he replied. Again he had a huge smile.

I decided to go inside and survey my back yard to get an idea of what work I wanted to have done.

My back yard is very private. It wasn't a large area but a high fence surrounded my garden entirely. Cathy's house was the only building visible. While her house was two-storied, there were no windows on this side overlooking my space. A large gable defined the end of her high pitched roof.

This area had once been such a tranquil refuge. My main hobby was impressionist paintings. I would often sit out here and drift off as I painted pieces of art.

The area needed a makeover. The plants in the raised gardens were overgrown and the decking needed a good water blast to clean off the winter mould. Summer was on its way and I was really looking forward to using this area for sunbathing.

SATURDAY

Finally, it was the weekend and I was going to get some work done on my overgrown garden. I didn't realise how important this sanctuary was to me until these past few weeks. The area was so overrun and wasn't useful in its current condition. I was really looking forward to having this area back in use for my relaxation and meditation.

I heard a knock on my front door as Mathew turned up for work.

In preparation for today, I had visited the hardware store and bought some tools. I showed Mathew the bright yellow Karcher water blaster along with the hard surface cleaning attachment that I had purchased. I explained, "The man at the hardware store said that this is what I needed to use to clean my deck. Have you used one of these before?"

"I've used these to clean some boats at high school. Let me unpack the boxes and see if I can assemble the unit."

In a short time, Mathew had the machine running and was underway with the first chore. It was amazing what difference the water blaster made to the timber decking. It was obvious that once started, the whole area would need to be cleaned.

I had found some goggles and Mathew had been home to get some ear muffs. Other than that, he was in his summer work clothes; T-shirt, cotton shorts and boots. I was wearing a pair of lemon-coloured hot shorts made out of cotton towelling. I was also wearing a white stretch-t as well.

Mathew was in his element. What is it with men and their power tools? I watched the progress from my kitchen window. Mathew had started by cleaning my two deck chair sun loungers. They were made of a dark kwila hardwood which had weathered into a silver grey-colour. The rich orange colour quickly returned as the water blaster seemed to wash away the weathered grey sheen.

These sun loungers were my pride and joy. They were modern and ergonomically shaped into a flat S shape to maximize relaxation. They were expensive - but worth it - when I first bought them. I remembered relaxing on them nearly every evening. They were so comfortable to sunbath on.

I had often sunbathed on them naked although I had, at times, worn my skimpy thongs as well: I liked the sexy minimal tan lines that my Microminimus 457 bikini bottoms made on my skin. These were the smallest bikinis I had ever owned and they barely covered my pussy lips.

I had to get Brazilian waxed for these thongs and I remember my therapist once commenting on my tan lines. At the time, I was dating a guy who enjoyed seeing the small tan lines. We had frequently relaxed at the local North Shore beaches and he found it erotic to see me with such minimal tan lines that had been achieved by being on display at public beaches while still being legal. It felt like it was a natural tattoo that reflected my exhibitionist streak.

I had managed to catch up with my favourite beauty therapist after all these years and she gave me a Hollywood styled Brazilian wax just two days ago. I was really looking forward to wearing my skimpy bikinis once again.

As I looked out the window at Mathew working, my thoughts returned to the present. He had finished cleaning the sun loungers and had moved onto the decking timber. He was using the water blaster's hard surface cleaning attachment. It looked like a vacuum cleaner head and it was gently cleaning large swaths of decking in these big sweeps.

It was a very hot day and, after a while, I watched Mathew take off his T-shirt from my vantage point in the kitchen. I could see that water blasting was a grubby job: his skin was getting covered by some grit as he cleaned. It was fortunate that I had insisted that he wear eye protection.

When it appeared that he had finished I went out to see him. I took a bowl of lukewarm water and a clean face cloth. I reached up to wipe his face clean of all the grit. He was so tall that when he stood next to me he had to bend down slightly so I could reach him. My left hand rested on his shoulder and I could feel the strength in his strong, broad muscles.

Mathew was breathing heavily from all the hard work. "You smell nice," he commented.

"Thanks," I replied. "Would you like a cold drink? I was thinking of picking those lemons from that old tree in the corner."

"Yes, that would be nice," he replied.

I went into my shed and grabbed a step ladder. Taking it over to the old tree, I set it up so I could reach the last of the citrus fruit.

Mathew came over to help. "I'll hold the ladder steady for you."

I climbed up and tried to reach for the highest fruit. Mathew held me at my waist as I reached up and picked the last remaining lemons from the tree. I felt that electricity once again as he touched me. Mathew's face was level with my arse and, as I stretched up to reach the highest fruit, my cheeks were nicely on display.

When I was finished picking the fruit he lifted me from the top step of the ladder and gently placed me on the ground. I felt like a delicate angel while being held by this strong, young man.

My hot shorts already exposed most of my buttocks but as Mathews lowered me down to the ground he held me against his chest. The fabric of my shorts was pulled even further up into my crotch which meant that it was pulled nicely against my aroused pussy. As anyone who shaves or has had a Brazilian will tell you, your clit is so exposed and extremely sensitive with no hair getting in the way.

Mathew's hands moved up under the thin cotton of my T-shirt. His fingers were by the side of my chest and he started to gently graze the sides of my boobs without touching my nipples. I am sure I could feel the beginnings of his hard-on pressing into my backside as I was held steady against him.

Mathew looked lustfully down at me and said, "I didn't want you to fall."

I inhaled a deep breath that was mixed with his aroma and replied, "Thank you." As I licked my lips I held out the two lemons in my hands and added breathlessly, "I'll go and squeeze these and make some juice."

I accentuated the sway of my hips as I walked back to the kitchen. My hot shorts were driving me mad as they continued to rub gently against my clit as I walked inside.

I made the lemonade and watched Mathew put all the tools away. I reached down to readjust my hot pants. I wasn't wearing any knickers and my fingers drifted over my hard clit. I gently played with myself while I looked on. I could feel that I was extremely wet as I slipped my index finger into my dripping pussy.

What was I thinking? I realised that it had been too long since I'd had any sexual relationship but was having lustful thoughts about the son of my neighbour the answer?

I cleaned up and took the drink outside. Mathew came over. I discussed tomorrow's work. "If you're available tomorrow, I'd like the trim all the plants in those planter boxes,"

"I'm always available to help you, Lynette," said Mathew as he polished off the long, cool drink of lemonade. "Those sun loungers look great now they've been cleaned up," he commented out of the blue.

"Yes. Thanks for everything you have done today. I'll see you in the morning," I said.

As he walked out he looked back at me over his shoulder. "Yes, I'll see you soon."

The late afternoon sun was streaming into my freshly cleaned deck. I wanted to celebrate so I decided I would change into a skimpy bikini and catch some rays.

I went upstairs and looked through my bikini collection. I found my shiny lycra lace-up top that was made in a semi-transparent ivory coloured fabric. I loved this top as I could draw my tits together with the lace-up string. It made my cleavage look devastatingly fabulous. I had to search hard to find the matching micro lace-up shiny lycra bikini bottoms. This bikini was very small and there was a lace-up cut-out that meant this was the lowest cut bikini in my possession.

I went downstairs and out onto my deck. My sun loungers were looking good from this morning's cleaning. They had dried out so I went and found the soft squabs and placed them on top. I lay down on my front and caught the last of the afternoon's rays. I undid the straps of my bikini top as I didn't want any tan lines.

I put on my sunglasses and my large floppy hat covered the back of my head as I lay there and read a chapter of a book.

When I had finished another chapter of the book, I rolled over to get some rays on my front. I decided that I would sunbath topless so I completely removed my top. As the sun was still quite strong I thought it would be wise to apply some sun tanning oil. I sat up and first applied the oil to my arms. To steady myself I had spread my legs so they were draped over the sides of my sun lounger.

I oiled up my neck and shoulders. I squirted a large amount of oil into my hand and applied it to my abdomen before applying the remaining oil to my breasts. As my oily fingers caressed my tits I couldn't help but play with my nipples. It doesn't take much to make my nipples go hard and today was no exception.

My mind drifted off to when Mathew had caressed the sides of my boobs after he caught me from getting down off the step ladder. I wondered whether that boy had teased me deliberately as I gave my large firm tits a good massage. I was lying back on the squab and my legs were still spread wide. My feet rested on the decking timber.

I wanted to apply an even coat of suntan oil to my legs and but didn't want to get any oil on my small bikini bottom. I lifted my legs straight up and removed the small triangle of fabric. It was ridiculously small.

Keeping one leg up in the air, I applied oil to my foot and calf. I squeezed some more oil into my hand and worked it into my thigh. I let out a little gasp as the edge of my hand brushed my sensitive pussy lips. I applied the oil to my other leg before spreading them and resting my feet back on the deck.

I found myself in a wound-up sexual frenzy as my mind floated back to thinking about Mathew again. I lay back on the sun lounger. My hat protected my face from the sun's harmful rays. From what I could see, my skin glistened from the protective oil I had applied to myself.

One hand lazily drifted down to my pussy and began to gently stroke my lips. The oil provided some lubrication but I could tell that my pussy was extremely wet. My other hand pinched one of my hard nipples as my forearm brushed against the other sensitive nub.