A Deal with Day Laborers
(c) 2022 by SirRender
I can't believe that I'm writing this down, but I just have to get this off my chest in the hope that my guilt for cheating on my husband goes away.
My name is Melissa. I am 26 and have been married to my husband Trevor for five years. In all that time I never cheated; never even thought about cheating. What happened wasn't really my fault... at first.
I'm a green eyed, strawberry blonde woman, five feet seven inches tall, with a fit body and fantastic breasts, even if I do say so myself.
Trevor works for money outside the home and I stay at home and work on my body. He likes to joke that I am a trophy wife, but he loves me dearly as I love him. The simple fact is he makes good money, we live comfortably, and there's no need for both of us to earn an income.
As I say, I stay home and work on my body. Well this was in June and the weather was sunny and warm but with a gentle cooling breeze. I decided to start on a nice overall tan for summer, so first I made myself a tall Long Island iced tea with a straw and cocktail umbrella just for funsies, went upstairs and stripped down naked before adding a wide sun hat and large sunglasses to protect my eyes. I wore flip flops out onto the patio where I dusted off one of our two folding chaise lounges, kicked off the flip flops, and laid out on my back.
A bottle of suntan oil was the only other thing I had brought outside with me, and I spent a few minutes liberally applying it all over my legs, starting from the thighs and working down, then on my belly and over my recently waxed bikini area--smoother than a baby's bottom--then up over my large, round breasts and down each arm.
Living in the suburbs, houses are close enough together that you can see into your neighbors' windows if they leave their curtains open, but far enough apart that everyone has their own front and back yards and a few feet of lawn or concrete walkway on each side of their house. Our lot has a cinder block wall maybe seven feet high between us and our rear neighbor, and wooden fences on each side. Also about a third of the houses on our block are two stories with the rest only single story. Ours is two, our neighbor to the East is two, but behind and to the West are both single story.
Even with living where I could be seen, I didn't have a big problem being naked outdoors. I do not consider myself an exhibitionist--I don't go around in public purposefully exposed, but in my own back yard I'll be damned if I'll be told what to wear. This had gotten me in some trouble once before, but that's a story for a different time.
Okay, so this is me in the future. I came back and decided to write that part in because it helps to explain what happened that day. This was around two years ago. I was at home alone, drinking a cup of hot tea at our kitchen island while wearing my dressing gown and fuzzy kitty slippers. It was a little bit chilly and foggy that morning but inside our climate controlled house it was pleasantly warm, so I didn't need bundling up and I even left the ties of my gown undone. So anyway, I saw through the front window that the mail truck had come, and after they left I went outside, not even thinking about my still open gown. Most of our neighbors were away at their jobs so I was unlikly to be seen.
It was just a matter of bad timing, because a police car coming down the street from the other direction had been obscured by the postal truck, and there I was out on the sidewalk with my tits hanging out and showing a landing strip of strawberry blonde pussy hair (at that time I was not waxing completely).
For indecent exposure, I was hauled into the local police station. I had one prior incident--a DUI the previous year--so they held me in a jail cell for over an hour until Trevor could arrive to post bail and drive me home. The ironic thing was that they didn't give me anything to cover up with in the cell until about ten minutes before they released me, so all I had on that whole time--with real criminals staring without shame--was my gossamer thin dressing gown which really didn't obscure anything--I mean, you can see the shape of my boobs and the pink of my nipples, as well as my pussy hair, through it--and my fuzzy kitty slippers.
Back to the big incident in June. Oh God, I still can't believe I'm admitting this happened.
I must have fallen asleep in the warm sun and cool breeze, because I awoke with a start at the sound of hammering. First things first, I looked at and quickly rubbed my hands over my body to be sure I hadn't burned--nope, everything was fine there. Then I looked up and straight, over the cinder block wall, where I saw two men on the roof of our rear neighbor's house. A tall ladder leaned against the house and several piles of shingles on the roof told me they must be contractors. Betty-Anne has been bugging her husband Chuong to replace their roof for years, looks like he finally bought into it.
I watched the men work for a bit, and heard them conversing but could not make out the words. They looked Mexican so I assume they were talking in Spanish. After a few minutes a third guy climbed the ladder, turned his head and clearly saw me lying there naked because he stopped dead and stared. He called to his buddies who stopped their work and turned to look at me.
I decided that they'd already seen everything so why not give them a little a little wave and a smile. And then a fourth guy climbed the ladder to look at me.
How many of them were over there? Oh well, no harm in a little harmless flirting. I picked up my glass and took a long sip through the straw, then set it aside and picked up the bottle of suntan oil. I gave my entire body another going over until my skin was glistening in the late morning sun.
One by one the guys either climbed down the ladder or hopped off the roof. Chuong and Betty-Anne's back yard is all grass so that was safe for them. My heart began to race, wondering where they were off to. Then four pairs of hands gripped the top of the cinder block wall followed by four faces peeking over.
One of them called out something which sounded like, "Hola, chica. ¿Podemos venir a jugar?" I was able to figure out the hola part, and the chica. The rest, I had no clue. I politely smiled and waved again. They evidently took that as an invitation and were soon scrambling over the wall and into our yard!
I tensed up. Something in my head told me to get up and hurry inside. What were they doing coming into my yard? And while I was lying there completely naked? Well, naked except for the floppy sun hat and big brown sunglasses.
They came around our swimming pool, two on each side. The four of them continued speaking in Spanish but I had no idea what they were saying. Okay so probably not contractors as I had thought, but rather day laborers.
They were soon forming a square around me, just a few feet away. I sat up straight and my arms instinctively crossed over my breasts to hide them. "Do--do any of you speak English?" I stammered.
"Si, I speak a little," one of the men replied.
"Okay, why are you in my yard?"
"You invited."
"No. No, I would remember doing that."
He pointed to the one who had called out first from over the wall and told me, "He asked if we could come and play with you. You say yes."
Stupid, stupid Melissa. Why didn't you learn Spanish in high school? No, you had to go and learn French because it was soooo romantic. And now you've flirted with and inadvertently invited over four strange, sweaty men because you were trying to be polite when they spoke to you in Spanish. I've often been criticized for being too sensitive to other peoples' feelings and too accommodating, and this day was the ultimate example of that. It got me in well over my head.
With one arm still across my chest, with the other I waved them back. "Well, shoo. Go away now. I'll let you watch, but only from a distance."
"¿Cómo?"
I tried to motion going over the wall with one hand outstretched. "Over there. Go back over there and I will let you watch."
"No lo entiendo." On seeing my frustration he added, "I not understand. We play or no?"
His three compadres now decided to press their luck and closed in around me, placing their hands on me. One took my hips and pulled my crotch against his, with only his bluejeans and maybe underpants between us. I could tell he was already hard. Another pushed his fingers through my hair and gripped the back of my head while his other hand closed over one of my breasts. He began firmly but slowly squeezing my tit while turning my face toward him and kissing my trembling lips. The third also took hold of a breast and with his other hand slapped my ass lightly but making a sharp sound which rang in my ears over the pumping of blood from my increased heart rate.