Through The Bamboo

As grateful as I was to have a wife with a hot body, I always wished Jen wanted to show it off just a bit more. Somehow she was convinced she wasn't that great looking and therefore no one would want to see any more of her than was necessary. I don't know where this idea came from: she's 5'7" with lovely long legs, a nice bubble of a booty, and deliciously round C-cup breasts. But she didn't see it. She saw a body that needed more hours at the gym, more tan on the skin, and more makeup to the face. It was sad, really. All my friends thought she was the hottest wife in our group and bitched to me constantly that she never wore bikinis to the pool parties, always wore opaque tights when she wore a skirt, and kept her collar lines high enough that getting an inch of cleavage was a victory. Whenever I had tried to encourage her, compliment her, suggest anything to her, she blew it off, "Of course YOU think I'm hot, you have to: you married me." Then she'd give me a frisky grope and redeem herself: she may not enjoy showing herself off in public, but she was very confident about what to do with that delicious body in the bedroom.

So I couldn't have planned for a more satisfying treat than the day the pest control came by. We had signed up with GoneBuggy shortly after moving into our single story track home. The ants were terrible, crawling in from unidentifiable crevices and then feeding a large population of spiders in each corner and under every cupboard. GoneBuggy came every other month and sprayed magic chemicals around the perimeter of the house and in the shrubby bits of the yard and, presto, no more ants and thus, no more spiders either.

During the first visit, a "technician" schedules to meet in person so you can walk them around your property and answer all sorts of questions about the kinds of bugs you've seen and how often you water your yard and whether you have pets or children. Then the technician works up a plan for your needs and explains where and what they will be spraying. It's sort of a trust exercise because they come into your yard and climb around in your shrubs so you want to feel that they aren't scoping your joint to rob it and they really want to know that Fido will be locked in the house when you say he is. Once everyone is in agreement, they pop by, do the spraying in about 15 minutes, and are on their merry way. Most of the time, we're not even home when they stop by and they just leave a notice hanging on the front door to let us know they've been 'round.

But that magical day, fate was in my favor. Jen and I were celebrating our 8

th

wedding anniversary with a nice night out for an expensive dinner and a theater show downtown. We'd both taken off work early to be home with plenty of time to clean up and get dressed up for the night. I'd already showered and was getting dressed when Jen got home. "Hey babe," she called, "sorry I'm late—stupid work held me up."

I stepped out from the master closet, boxers in hand, "No problem," I called, "I've already showered and was quick about it so there's plenty of hot water for you."

She came into the master bedroom, tossing her suit jacket on the back of the chair. She looked so hot in the power suits she'd started wearing to work that I wished she hadn't already taken off the jacket. How do guys work with her all day and not fanaticize about what's under that tailored fabric? "Thanks babe, ooo! Nice look!" she said, reaching out to grab at me.

I dodged out of the way, "You're gonna make us late!"

"Mmmm, dinner's THAT important to you, huh?" she cooed. She slipped past me and took off her shoes. "Fine, I'll hop in the shower and get moving. My hair look okay?" She unclipped her shoulder-length brunette hair from its workday updo.

"You look amazing, as always," I said and stepped into my boxers.

"Mmm, hmmm, of course I do," she said, slipping her slacks off. Her butt looked great in the pale pink panties she had on...but even better as she peeled those off and tossed them in the laundry hamper. I loved the way it made a crisp crease between the underside of her cheeks and the tops of those long legs. Being a bit of a neat freak, she actually chose to keep herself shaved—another area I had lucked out on. She reached for a hanger and as her blouse slid up, my eyes slid to her crotch—in need of a touch up but sexy with a scruffy little stubble outlining her full lips and the curve of her mound. She started talking about her day at work and I nodded and hmmmed as appropriate but mostly I was now enjoying watching her unbutton her blouse, hang it, lift the silky camisole underneath up and over her head, her breasts lifting up and pushing against the top of the cups of her matching pale pink bra. If only I could watch in slow motion. Watch as the muscles rippled and her breasts settled back into the cups as her arms came down, then thrust forward, welling over the rim of the cups as she reached behind her back to unclasp the bra and then finally softening as she slipped the bra down her arms. I pinched a nipple, dusty-rose and plump like a little gumdrop. It hardened and she slapped my hand away—"Ah ah ah!" she scolded, "We'll be late for dinner, remember?"

The doorbell rang. "Really?" she said, "Doesn't it seem like the solicitors have been at it a lot lately? I thought this was a gated community."

"Yeah, it was the solar-sales guys yesterday and some Mormons a few days before that," I said, reaching for a pair of pants. "I'll get it."

"No, leave it. Every time you answer the door it just encourages them."

"What if it's a neighbor?"

"Jim, seriously?" she gave me that scornful look. "All the neighbors we care about have our number. They'd just text us. No one goes knocking on each other's doors unannounced anymore. When has it EVER been a neighbor?"

The person knocked. "So annoying." I said. "You're right. Let 'em suffer." I'd much rather watch you be naked anyway, I thought.

The closet was a walk through that lead into the master bathroom and Jen went back to talking about the new client at work and what he said over the phone. I followed her and leaned against the door frame and enjoyed watching the sunlight play across her skin as she walked to the shower, leaned in to turn on the water, and then stood at the sink, brushing her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. She interrupted her story, "You think I should do my hair up or down tonight? I could curl it a bit?" She watched herself in the mirror as she turned her head side-to-side, considering. All I could think was: how can she stare at the reflection of her body and only see her hairstyle? Oh how the world was missing out on a wonderful thing. I think I felt a twinge of guilt, as if it was my fault I was keeping this treasure all to myself.

And that is when I saw Lance.

Let me explain so you can picture it clearly since the moment is forever burned into my memory in minute detail: the master bathroom is shaped in a long rectangle which you access through the walk-through closet. When you enter, there is a separate room immediately to your left for the toilet and then a long counter with double sinks and a mirror and then the shower stall, a fancy no-door model that we loved: it was long enough that you could walk in one end and the large pane of glass kept the water from spraying out as you showered at the other end. The other thing we loved about the bathroom was the natural light: the entire right wall was a series of windows that at one point had looked out on a nice garden. We had planted bamboo along that wall outside because the windows now looked out on the sideof the neighbor's garage, built back when the lot had been divided by the prior owner. Good for privacy, I suppose, but not very appealing to look at.

Well, here was Jen, standing buck naked at the sink, debating about her hair do, and me, leaning against the door jam into the closet, and that's when I noticed the movement. Subtle, but it seemed like a shadow had passed by the corner of the window. Jen was pinning her hair up into a bun and the water was starting to steam from the shower and I told her, "No, I can't believe she did that," so she'd keep going on about the secretary and then I saw the movement again. Most definitely there was a person outside the window, moving slowly along the bamboo.

At first, my heart leapt—a robber?! Just as I was about to tell Jen to shut it and get out of there, I caught a flash of lime green: the lime green ball cap of our GoneBuggy technician, Lance. My mind raced—he was just outside the window, I should shoo him off or give Jen a towel to cover up. But I was suddenly growing hard. I wondered if Lance could see in through the bamboo. They weren't THAT thick. He was walking slowly along the wall, from the closet end towards the shower, probably carefully spraying his chemicals along the edge of the house and into the shrubby bamboo. Would he even notice? Here was my wife, man, in all her glory!

I moved slightly back into the darkness of the closet and flipped on the overhead light to the bathroom, "Seems a bit dark in here," I said. Jen nodded and, hair pinned to satisfaction, started to walk to the shower. I battled the hope that Lance, with the cue from the light, would look ...and the hope that Lance would move along because if Jen found out what I had just done she would flip. It would be no way to celebrate our 8

th

anniversary with the silent treatment for a month. Jen would NEVER understand why I would betray her like this, never see that it was incredibly hot to share her body with another appreciative set of eyes. If only Lance would look.

Lance's shadow stopped moving. And then lowered slightly. I think he'd seen. He seemed to hesitate and then he moved closer to the window, well camouflaged by the bamboo leaves, just a hint of a shadow to give him away. I tried to imagine what was racing through his head as Jen, her back to the window, leaned in to test the temperature of the water. As she leaned, her ass cheeks parted just slightly and I believe, from Lance's angle, he might just be getting a bit of a peek at the pursed slit of her two lips just peeping below the curve of her ass. "We should really invest in one of those instant water heaters," Jen said, stepping into the shower. Another reason to thank Jen for her neat freak streak: that pane of glass enclosing the shower was crystal clear.

"Sure babe, good idea." I said. "I'm gonna go run to the mailbox and check my emails but it won't take me long to get dressed so we should be fine."

"Okay, sounds good," she said, as she arched her back to let the water run down her chest without getting her hair wet. I carefully stepped further back into the closet and slipped on a pair of dark sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Then I edged forward so I could watch Lance in the reflection of the mirror and Jen as she went about her shower, fully relaxed in the privacy of her own home. Not even I was watching as far as she knew. Oh, Lance, you lucky bastard.

Here is what Lance saw: First, Jen let the water run down her chest and stomach, arching to keep her hair dry which, naturally, pushed those lovely c-cups out. The water sprayed across her skin, her dusty-rosebud nipples hardened and the water made rivulets down her trim stomach and the mound, parting to run down each long leg. Then she turned around, careful to keep her head out from under the water as she warmed her back, pushing her ass out a little as she reached for the poof-ball and pumped soap onto it. She started with her shoulders, using her right hand to swirl the soap over each shoulder, across her collarbone, over and around each breast. She ran it down and up each arm, the little white bubbles trailing over her skin as she moved. She switched hands and did her right arm and then stretched up to flatten her stomach as she rubbed the poof-ball in circles around her trim waist and up her sides. She swiveled her hips from side to side as she washed along her hip bones and then reached behind her to scrub her back, her boobs perky as she did, the water splashing off her ass. Then she turned to face the water and used her hands to brush off the soap bubbles from her arms and along her tummy. I was rather surprised and pleased when she cupped her breasts and playfully bounced them in her hands, watching them as they jiggled like happy puppies. So she DID enjoy her body after all, I thought. Lance's shadow moved slightly at the window and I saw the bamboo part just a little further. He's enjoying this view, no doubt.

Satisfied with her cleaning thus far, Jen turned her back to the water again, applied more soap to the poof-ball and then lifted her left leg to rest on the little seat in the corner of the shower. This did two things for Lance as she pushed the soap up and down that glorious long leg. One, her boobs swung forward as she leaned to reach down to her ankle and back up. Down and up, down and up, Jen's neat freak tendencies paying off once again as her breasts swayed along. Second, with her left leg up and her body angled towards the seat in the corner of the shower, Lance had an excellent view of her ass cheek stretched taut and the perfect little lips could be glimpsed each time she reached her ankle. Jen squirted shaving cream into her palm and spread it smoothly over her entire left leg and then, just as I wished she had been, she moved in slow motion as she shaved. Bending to the ankle, gliding up, straightening to swish the razor under the water, then bending again. The water bounced offer her lower back and poured in sheets down her right leg and off her ass. I was rock hard. I wondered if Lance was too.

Thank god women have two legs because when she finished with the left, the right was even better. All the same bending and scrubbing with the soap and the glorious slow motion dance with the razor, but with her right leg up, Jen's lips were angled toward the window and every time she stood straight to rinse the razor blade, those beautiful lips would part just enough that the darker pink of her interior peeked out. And I was a good 8 feet away; Lance was about 4 feet and at much better angle. She ran her hands over her legs slowly, checking that all was smooth and then turned to the let the water run over her again, warming her skin. She efficiently shaved each arm pit, making her boobs rise and fall as she maneuvered the blade expertly. One more rinse and she was done, turning off the shower and reaching for a towel.

At this point, I thought she was done. Lucky Lance had had quite a good show, especially since she didn't even know she was giving one. If he was brave, he could stick around as she toweled and walked to the closet to dress but I didn't think he'd see more that he already had.

I was wrong.

Jen toweled off, stepped out of the shower and hung the towel to dry. She moved over in front of the mirror and took the hair dryer and curling iron out of the drawer, plugging them in. She began to unpin her bun. I hadn't expected that she'd do her hair in the nude. I had been ready to nonchalantly "reenter" the closet to get dressed for the night but now I held my breath. She apparently wasn't dressing quite yet.

Hair down, she gave it a quick blow dry, tossing it from side to side which made her ass jiggle just slightly and her boobs do a nice little dance too. I noticed Lance creeping sideways to get a better angle. From both our positions we had a perfect shot of her backside and the full reflection of her front in the mirror. For someone who didn't want to show off her body, she was doing a marvelous job of it.

She unplugged the hair dryer, put it away in the drawer and then brought out a little bottle of oil and a fresh razor. Ohhhhh, I sighed. Sure enough, Jen pulled the knob to close off the sink and began to fill it with hot water. Then she lay a towel on the counter to the right of the sink and hopped up, sitting angled towards the closet, right leg bent with her foot near her ass cheek, left leg dangling over the edge of the counter, pussy lips stretched wide open in the light of the mirror, the hood of her clit and the hot pink of her hole easy to see in the reflection. She unscrewed the lid of the oil and carefully applied it to her most sensitive parts. Her fingers massaged it in a bit, running along each plump lip and up over the stubbly mound. She turned off the water and swished the razor in the hot water of the sink and then used her left hand to pull the skin on her mound smooth as she slid the razor over it slowly.

I hadn't even noticed when but my hand had found its way to my cock and I was matching her strokes with the razor. She was confident but careful as she smoothed the razor over her skin, leaving it pink and fresh. I believe at this point I had nearly forgotten about Lance but as she rinsed the razor in the sink I forced myself to look a the rest of the reflection in the mirror and ... yes, there he was, moved again to get the perfect view of that pussy reflected in the mirror, clear as day. Again, thank you Jen for the marvelously clean glass.

She dabbed a bit more oil on her lips and then scooted forward a bit, spreading her legs even further, the pinkness of it all making me crazy. She used her fingers to press her skin flat and ran the razor slowly from the bottom to the top of each lip, along the inner edge, pressing back the skin to get into the fold on either side of her clit, running the razor up and down, then from the outside edge in, constantly pressing and touching with her fingertips to get every last hair. And I swear, her pussy started to glisten. My wife, the neat freak, was getting wet shaving her sexy cunt. And Lance was getting the full benefit.

I thought the show couldn't get any better but when Jen was satisfied with that smooth smooth pussy, she rinsed the blade, hopped off the counter, and rubbed that oil right between her ass cheeks. Looking over her shoulder, she spread her legs, reached around with her left hand, parted her cheeks wide and then ran the razor up and down, up and down, rinse rinse, up and down, up and down, gliding over the pink pucker of her asshole down to her pussy and up to the top of her crack.

I wish I could have frozen time with her like that. Breasts pointing right at the window, nipples as hard as I've ever seen them, twisting at the waist to spread open her cheeks with a firm grip, her asshole pulsing a bit as she slid up and down that delicate skin.

I couldn't help it. I came right there in the darkness of the closet. And I like to think Lance may have done the same, standing pressed into our bamboo on the side of the house.

Jen laughed and looked right at me as she untwisted from her position and rinsed the blade one more time in the sink. "Having fun?" she said. "Enjoy the show?"

For a moment I thought she'd figured it out but then I realized: if she knew about Lance there was no way in hell she'd be talking to me in that playful voice. The sweet thing, of course, thought the whole show was just for me.

"You know I did," I said and I stepped out of the closet to embrace her naked body in a hug. "You're just too sexy." I nuzzled her neck and turned her so her back was to the windows. I thought I could tell which shadow was Lance and I winked and smiled. "I like this sexy ass," I said and slid my hands around each cheek, squeezed and then pulled them apart. "And this sexy smooth asshole back here." Jen giggled. I imagine Lance was about 18 inches away from her open crack.

"Naughty naughty," she said, trying to spin free of my embrace. I caught her and spun her to face the windows but bent in to kiss her, keeping her head tilted towards me.

"Maybe, but this body is too much for me." And as we kissed I squeezed her breasts and pinched and rolled her nipples with my left hand and let my right wander down to her smooth smooth lips. "mmmm," I sighed into her mouth as I slipped my fingers along her slippery slit. Her hips pushed into my hand and I dipped my first two fingers into that hot pink hole.