I pulled up in front of my friends Mike and Shannon's house and killed the engine, getting out to feel the hot sun beating down. It was a hell of a day for yard work, ninety plus degrees by my estimation, but here I was at a house that wasn't even mine to do exactly that. My shorts were already sticking to the backs of my legs from the heat. likewise my T-shirt.
Mike and Shannon were married about a year when they bought the place, a "fixer-upper" according to the real estate guy. The backyard was enormous (at least by California standards), but all overgrown with tall grasses and weeds. They'd cleared most of it out except for a few bushes and a Myers lemon tree had taken on gargantuan proportions over the last 45 years. It had to come out before the cement contractor came to pour the patio, so here I was to play the part of unskilled labor and help get the thing out. I'm not smart, but I can lift heavy things, as the T-shirt saying goes.
I was in an odd position with them, because Mike was cheating on her and I knew about it. We worked together, did some travelling together, and he was not above hitting the singles bars or even picking up a hooker now and then. I liked him, but he was kind of a sleaze. I didn't want to lose him as a friend, so I kept my mouth shut about it around Shannon, though I guess morally I should have said something. Like I said, I was in a weird spot.
I knocked on the front door, but nobody answered. I walked around the side to the gate. They'd erected a new six foot fence all the way around the place, and being just under six myself, I had to stand on tiptoe to peek over.
The side yard looked positively lunar, with almost the entire surface churned up by the rototiller into baking clay dirt clods...not very good for growing things, but they had a load of chicken shit coming next week to enrich it before they laid the sod. The massive lemon tree was out of my sight, but I knew it loomed behind the house at least thirty feet high. I sighed and wiped the back of my arm across my forehead.
I didn't see nor hear any sign of Mike or Shannon which surprised me. I expected them to be deep into it by now. "Hello? Anybody home?" I hollered. Nothing.
Reaching over the fence, I unhooked the latch and pushed the gate open, closing it behind me. "Hello?" The hairs on the back of my neck started to rise a little, my imagination quickly dreaming up an escaped lunatic with a baseball bat and a paring knife, drooling into the dead faces of my friends as he waited for me.
I came around the corner, and there was the hulking lemon tree, and up in the tree was Shannon, standing on a branch with her back to me. The electric chainsaw hung by its cord from a branch near her, and the pruning shears were hooked on a branch nearby as well.
Shannon is a good looking woman, and I'll be the first to tell you that. She keeps herself in shape with aerobics, keeps her diet under tight control, and doesn't wear much makeup...she doesn't need it. She had on a faded blue T-shirt and pair of mike's old flannel boxer shorts. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail. I opened my mouth to call out a greeting, but stopped myself. There was something odd going on I couldn't quite put my finger on at first. She had one gloved hand on a branch above her head, and the other hand I couldn't see, because she had it in front of her. She stood like that for a couple of seconds, and then jerked her head backwards and gasped. Then it hit me: She was masturbating. She was looking over the fence at something (or somebody), and had her hand down the front of her pants! Holy shit.
Now that I had it figured out, I could see her legs trembling a little and hear her breathing. She was trying to be quiet, but you could tell it wasn't easy. Her legs and the arm above her head were rigid and quivering, beaded with sweat . Periodically, she'd take in a deep gasp, and then pull her free hand up, running it over her breasts and belly before sliding it back down inside the elastic waistband of the boxers. All the while, she kept her eyes glued to whatever was on the other side of that fence.
I could not believe it, and I stood there watching, slackjawed. Even though I really couldn't see what was going on, it was quite erotic. The sound of her desperately hushed breathing and trembling, sweaty body were very arousing, and I was vaguely aware I had a hard-on like an 18 year old kid on Viagra.
Her breathing got faster, and I could tell she was getting close to coming. A low moan came from her as I watched mesmerized, and then the sound of the truck pulling in to the driveway. Mike was home.
Shannon's head snapped back at the sound and her eyes locked on mine. Her face was flushed red, and her eyes had this incredible sexy, half closed look. We stood there like that for a few seconds, me with my raging hard on clearly visible, her with her hand still down the front of her shorts, now turned slightly towards me I could see her arm pushed down the shorts.
"Hey, Mike!" I called, hoping to break the spell.
"You here already?" he called from the front of the house. Shannon started to move. She pulled her hand out, and started to climb back down the tree.
"Just got here!" I called. "You probably saw me drive up!"
Mike pushed through the gate. He had a bag of fertilizer cradled in his arms. "Had to pick this shit up today, because they're closed tomorrow. Give me a hand? There's plenty more in the truck."
"Oh sure!" I said, heading back out to the driveway to get a bag myself.
"Here kind of early, aren't you?"
"8:00. just like always."
