The Tales of Andrea & Dean

The sound of the front door closing woke her from her temporary hypnosis, as self-awareness came washing back over her. Andrea, standing in the middle of her bedroom dressed only in a small white towel, blushed deeply as her heart thudded with excitement. 'Oh my god, did that just happen?' she thought to herself. Her mind raced, the events of the past 45 minutes flashing through her memory.

She had just me her new neighbour, Dean--a handsome, fit 30-something man with brown hair, hazel eyes, and one of the largest cocks she had ever seen. He had tripped and fallen when they passed each other jogging--likely because he couldn't take his eyes off her young, lean body--and she had invited him back to her house to let him shower and clean up his scraped leg. He had left the bathroom door open, and she had secretly watched him shower. When it was her turn, she had decided to put on a show for him, fingering herself to orgasm. She knew he had been watching her, and had seen him clearly--hiding in the hallway--in the reflection of the medicine cabinet. To her amazement, he had actually taken his dick out and masturbated as he watched her.

Presently, she walked back to the bathroom and looked at the floor. Her balled-up spandex running shorts and pink thong were lying there where he had put them. She bit her lip as she bent down to pick them up, recalling the image of him stroking his enormous manhood, depositing his load into the sweaty garments.

She gingerly opened them in her hand with her fingertips, and gasped as the amount of cum soaking into the material. His load was as impressive as his dick, and she looked wide-eyed at the sticky mess, tracing a finger through the thick, white strands. The musky smell of his seed wafted up to her and she unconsciously licked her soft lips. She felt a tingle in her groin at the thought of Dean watching her through the door, pleasuring himself as she put on a show. Her cheeks flushed again, this time in embarrassment, as she tossed her soiled shorts and panties into the laundry hamper and returned to her room.

Andrea was usually a fairly shy person. She was friendly and sociable, but certainly not extroverted, and her sexual experiences could be described as somewhat conservative for someone of her age and attractiveness. She had certainly not done anything as adventurous as let an older man she had just met watch her shave her pussy clean and masturbate to orgasm in the shower. Her emotions mixed within her, eliciting butterflies in her stomach--excitement and shame, thrill and anxiety.

As she opened her dresser drawer to choose some clothes to wear, she glanced over at her laptop. Dean had been sitting in the desk chair when she'd entered her room, pretending he had been there the whole time. She looked at the browser window open on the screen. She was shocked to discover that it was her profile page for the erotic fiction website she posted on! He must have forgotten to close the browser. How much had he seen? He likely wouldn't have had time to read any of her stories, but now he knew she was a user on the site. She had no doubt he would have taken note of her username, and would probably check out her profile when he got home. She felt embarrassed, but part of her wanted him to see it. The thought of him reading her stories and getting turned on was appealing to her.

Andrea pulled a pair of panties, a short summer skirt, and a thin cotton tank top from her dresser and tossed her towel on the bed, exposing her petite body to the cool air circulating in her bedroom. As she pulled her thong up her thighs and felt the material rest snugly between her perfect buttocks, she smiled to herself and wondered what naughty adventure would befall her next.

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The front doorbell's musical chime rang through the empty house and drifted through the screen door at the back, just far enough tickle her ear. Andrea lifted her head from the sun lounger and lowered her magazine to her lap. She had been catching some sun in her small back yard on a midday Sunday, reclining on the lounger in a miniscule red string bikini, her skin glistening with lotion.

Again, the chime rang. She tossed the magazine on the small table next to her and stood, putting on a long, loose t-shirt to cover herself before hurrying through the house to the front door.

"Coming!" she called as she nimbly stepped across the hardwood floor, her many years of dancing explaining the powerful grace of her motion.

She opened the door and was greeted by Dean, her new neighbour. He was wearing a snug white t-shirt and cargo shorts with flip flops, and looked even more handsome than the day before when they had met.

"Hi Andrea," he said, his eyes quickly darting up and down her body, lingering on her bare legs. "Um, I just came by to say thanks for yesterday."

He held out a bouquet of flowers and an oval-shaped object wrapped in a tea towel.

"I picked these from my garden, and brought over some homemade bread," he said, handing them to her.

"Oh, thank you Dean! These are lovely. And the bread's still warm!" she replied, smiling at him, her eyes sparkling.

He smiled back sheepishly and stood awkwardly in the doorway. Andrea suddenly felt nervous too, remembering what had happened the day before.

"Oh my god, how rude of me. Come in, come in," she urged him, stepping out of the way. "I was just relaxing in my backyard. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure," his face lit up as he stepped inside.

Andrea put the flowers in a vase and the bread on the cutting board in the kitchen, cutting a few slices to put on a plate with a small dish of olive oil, then led Dean outside. He surveyed the yard, then took a seat in a patio chair. Andrea turned away and slowly pulled her t-shirt over her head, making sure Dean got a good, long look at the red bikini bottoms bunched between her soft butt cheeks. She turned back around and reclined on her lounger, adjusting the cups of her bikini to expose more of her breasts. Dean eyed her hungrily, then cleared his throat and pretended to be distracted by something across the way.

"How's your leg?" asked Andrea.

"Oh, fine thanks. Just a small scrape, so I don't think it will affect my hockey career," he laughed.

"You play hockey?"

"Just an amateur league, for fun. It keeps me active."

Andrea imagined a group of sweaty men stripping down in the change room and felt a tingle between her legs.

"Maybe I could come watch one of your games sometime."

"That would be great. Our fan base is pretty thin. I'm sure the guys would love to have you supporting us," he chuckled.

Andrea imagined a few other ways she could 'support' the team, then blushed at the naughty thought that had popped into her head. 'What's gotten into me?' she thought to herself.

They chatted outside for a while, enjoying the summer weather. Andrea took note of how often Dean's gaze drifted over her body, scanning her legs, flat stomach, and perky breasts. After some time, Dean stood.

"I should be heading off. I've got a bit of work to do on the house this afternoon."

"So soon? Ok Dean, thank you for stopping by, and for the lovely flowers and the bread."

He smiled and his eyes darted to her tits, where her nipples poked subtly through.

"It's a shame you have to walk all the way around the block," she continued. "Maybe we should install a gate," she laughed.

He raised his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth turned up slyly.

"You know, It wouldn't be hard. I have the tools and hardware. I could do it this afternoon if you wanted. I'd just have to cut a section out of the fence and put some hinges in along one of the support posts."

"Really? Yeah, go for it. I don't mind."

"Are you sure? It'll be a bit noisy."

"No, that's fine. As long as you don't mind me watching you work."

He grinned. "Of course I don't mind."

With that he disappeared through the house. Before long Dean was hard at work, sawing out a section of the fence and attaching the hardware. Andrea watched him avidly, especially from the moment he removed his shirt. Sweat glistened on his chest, back and shoulders as he took measurements and made marks on the wood with the pencil he had stuck behind his ear. She began to fantasise about him, and before long felt a warmth between her legs.

She turned to lie on her stomach and untied the strings of her bikini, letting them fall to the side and folding her arms under her head. She made sure that Dean had a good view of her body, her breasts pushing against the lounger, bulging subtly out from under her, her back scooped, sticking her ass up to display it in all its curvaceous glory. The material of her bikini bottoms had been pulled further into her butt crack, revealing more of her luscious buttocks. Andrea observed Dean from behind her large, dark sunglasses. She noticed that he was finding it harder and harder to keep his attention on his work. He continually looked over at her reclining body, dropping his tools, taking frequent breaks to wipe sweat from his brow with his t-shirt, all while hungrily surveying her supine form.

After giving Dean an eyeful of her sexy ass for a while, she turned over, holding her bikini top to her chest. Once on her back, she adjusted her top so that it lay across her breasts, the small red triangles just barely covering her erect nipples. She lifted one knee slightly and settled back, making sure she was facing Dean, but not so much that he would suspect she was staring at him. The warm sun caressed her skin as she watched him hoist the gate into place, the muscles in his back and shoulders rippling. She became drowsy, her eyes closing involuntarily as her mind strayed into the naughty fantasies of her daydreams.

"Andrea?"

She was on a beach... sun on her naked skin... Dean's body hovered over her, his manhood erect and directed at her wet opening... she wrapped her arms around him, her nails scratching at his back... he spoke her name softly... Andrea... she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him to her, his cock moments away from penetrating her burning pussy...

"Hello? Andrea?"

The voice was loud enough to wake her. Her eyes fluttered under her dark sunglasses as Dean came into focus, standing next to her lounger. Her body was still paralysed from the dream she had been having, and she was just about to make an effort to acknowledge him when he leaned down slightly, waving his hand in front of her face. He stopped, staring down at her, then looked around, uncertain what to do next. He was evidently unwilling to wake her from such a seemingly deep sleep. He stepped quietly away to the gate, crouching at his toolbox and pulling the pencil from behind his ear. He hastily scrawled a note on a pad of paper, and returned to Andrea's lounger, putting the note under the glass of water on the small table next to her.

As he leaned down, she could smell sawdust and sweat on his skin. He began to straighten up, but hesitated, his eyes carefully scanning every inch of her reclined body. He wiped his brow with his hand, then rubbed his chin, his eyes crawling over her barely-concealed breasts. Moments passed, neither of them moving. Dean looked about him, then back at Andrea, waving his hand again, this time only inches from her face. He stopped and waited. He touched her shoulder gently and spoke her name again. She did not move. He stood straight, putting his hands on his hips and scanning the area. 'What is he doing?' she wondered.

After another few moments, Dean looked back down at her and carefully fished into the pocket of his cargo shorts. He retrieved his phone and touched the screen urgently. He angled it down at her and touched the screen again. 'Oh my god, he's taking pictures of me!' Andrea realised. She considered moving, altering him to the fact that she might be waking up... then hesitated. As he snapped another photo of her near-naked body, she felt a spark of excitement in her groin. She wanted to smile to herself. She was proud of her figure, and it was nice to know Dean was so impressed that he would risk taking secret photos of her when she might wake up at any moment.

After a few more photos, Dean stopped and looked around again. His eyes were drawn back to the loose bikini top resting across the swells of her modest bosom. He rubbed his chin again, then licked his lips. He put the phone back in his pocket and leaned down slowly. He splayed the fingers of his hands, but kept his thumbs and forefingers nearly touching, like he was holding a sheet of wet paper. Ever so slowly, his eyes occasionally darting up to her face, he descended on her and took the edge of her bikini in his fingertips. With surgical delicacy, he began to pull the top down. Andrea felt the soft material on her nipples, and they hardened instantaneously, protruding from her pale pink areolas. They poked out so much that the bikini top briefly caught on them, but Dean still slid the top down, her nipples springing free into the open air as the material came free.

Dean froze when he saw her hard nubs flick into the open, scanning her face for a reaction. She could barely control her excitement. Her heart was beating so hard she thought he might actually hear it. She felt a flush on her cheeks and a warmth in her groin. Goosebumps broke out on her breasts and her nipples felt like pebbles. She did her best to control her breathing, to give nothing away. After what seemed like an eternity, Dean continued to slip her top down. It still lay across her body, but now her breasts were completely exposed. He gently placed the cups back against her skin so it would look like the bikini had simply slipped down as she slept.

Again, he slipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved his phone, this time nearly dropping it as he took several photos of her body, focusing especially on her now bare breasts. Her eyes followed the hard lines of his body down to his shorts, where a long, prominent bulge was forming along his inner thigh. 'Why am I letting him do this?' she thought. 'He's taking pictures of my tits in my own back yard!' Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, and her pussy burned with excitement. Still, she waited, and watched.

It did not take long before Dean's free hand wandered down to his crotch, impatiently gripping the cylindrical shape protruding from his shorts. His head swiveled about the yard, scanning for nosy neighbours. Satisfied that he was not being watched, he quietly unzipped his fly and fished his hand into his loose shorts. He grimaced with the effort of retrieving his enormous penis and pulling it through the opening of his fly. Andrea nearly gasped as it flopped into view, swaying heavily in a semi-engorged state, pointing vaguely at her face like a fat snake responding to a charmers' music.

Andrea had seen it already when Dean was in her shower the day before, but this was entirely different. She was so close to it. If she bent her left arm at the elbow, she would be able to caress the bulging head. And it was growing. Dean took a deep breath and stroked his hand along his thick shaft, squeezing it at the base and making it swell like a water balloon. He stroked it again and it stiffened further. Andrea struggled to maintain her composure. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but the butterflies in her stomach were not caused by these things alone. Aching desire and waves of arousal coursed through her nubile body and it took all her effort not to pull Dean down on top of her to get sexual release from this torturous inertia.

The veins stood out along Dean's impressive column as he achieved rock-hardness. Andrea's mouth watered involuntarily as she thought about how in the world her mouth would be able to accommodate such girth. She felt dampness soaking her bikini bottoms as she thought again of her dream, Dean's manhood touching her soft, bare labia as he prepared to drive it deep inside her. He stroked himself faster now, and with his other hand he took more photos, this time with his massive cock in the foreground, as if it was about to touch her breasts.

It was becoming more and more difficult for Andrea to maintain control. She knew she was breathing harder, and her fingers itched to either caress Dean's flesh, or dive into her bikini bottoms and pleasure herself shamelessly. She found instead of being offended, violated, and repulsed by his bold actions, she was falling father into a vast pit of wanton sexual cravings. She wanted him to kiss her mouth hard and rough, to rub his cock against her breasts, to push his fingers into her wet hole. All the while, she wondered how far he would go. Would he stop before he got carried away? Would he wait for her to wake up and discover him jerking off over her like this? Would he stroke himself to orgasm, blasting his cum across her reclined body and unsuspecting face? These thoughts pushed her closer to her own precipice. Her control and composure was slipping away. Her pussy tingled and bolts of pleasure shot through her body. She saw Dean bite his lip as his stroking reached a fevered pace. 'Yes! Yes, cum on me, baby! Cum all over your little slut!' her mind shouted.

When the phone in his hand vibrated, Dean's body jerked so hard it looked like he'd been electrocuted. He released his cock, letting it spring up and down like a diving board, and began desperately swiping the screen of his phone. After he had turned it off, he suddenly seemed to realise where he was and what he was doing. He sprang towards Andrea's house, and she heard grunting as she imagined him attempting the impossible task of stuffing his fully erect manhood back through the small opening of his fly. She heard her screen door open and close. She waited a minute before attempting to move.

Turning her head, she saw no trace of Dean. 'He must have gone out the front', she thought. She sat up, pulling the bikini top completely off and setting it on the table. The note there read: 'Didn't want to wake you. Finished the gate. Feel free to use it anytime you like :) -Dean', with his phone number written at the bottom. She smiled to herself and reclined again, breathing deeply. She enjoyed the feeling of the open air against her breasts, and the thought of her neighbours seeing her topless like this excited her. She began to wonder about herself; about what had come over her lately. She was normally timid. Where had this naughty, exhibitionist streak come from? She had genuinely surprised herself when she wished that Dean had ejaculated on her. She'd just met him, and they were outside in her back yard, visible to a few of the neighbours, if they happened to be on their second floors. And now she was lying here, bare chested, her bikini bottoms soaked in her juices, her nipples still hard with excitement.

The fingers of her right hand wandered over her tummy and down to the red triangle of fabric between her legs. She gingerly touched herself, feeling her wetness, her warmth. Her skin broke out in goosebumps and she sighed as she pushed her middle finger against her clit, feeling its hardness through her bikini. Unable to stop herself, she slid her fingertips up to her abdomen, then slipped them deftly beneath her bikini bottoms, feeling the smooth, soft skin of her mound. She stroked her finger along her moist slit, closing her eyes and biting her lip. The image of Dean's hard body and pendulous manhood towering above her flooded her mind as she pushed her finger between her labia. It slipped in easily aided by her womanly secretions and she moaned softly. With her other hand she gently rolled her nipple in her fingers, teasing the tip and feeling its hardness.

Andrea spread her legs, giving in to her self-stimulation. She now gripped her breast firmly, feeling her nipple hard against her palm, and curled her finger inside her soaking pussy. She moaned again, louder this time, and arched her back, her head rolling, her mouth open. 'Is someone watching me now? Watching as I shamelessly masturbate for my whole neighbourhood to see? Getting myself off in public like a dirty slut?' Her boldness, embarrassment, arousal, shame, and ambivalence all clashed within her, but served only to excite her further. Her hand worked busily under the material of her bikini, dipping her fingers in and our of her pussy with gleeful abandon. She trembled as she felt the wave of her orgasm approaching.