Santana was on the radio, "Man, it's a hot one, like seven inches from the midday sun."
He wasn't kidding. Welcome to summer in Houston, Texas.
The hot breeze blew humid air off the Gulf of Mexico and across Galveston Bay, up the ship channel to downtown. The 'Feels-Like' temperature in H-town was 108°F. The thermometer on the back deck said 99° F. The Fourth of July weekend was upon us and the forecast was sunny and hot.
Cathy already had her morning fling with Lucky, her favorite dildo. Her orgasm was less than two hours ago and she was still raging with lust. She was definitely going to need a nice hard cock and the sooner she got one, the better.
This weekend the Cathy was single. Her girlfriend was in Florida with family and her boyfriend was in Las Vegas chasing tail. Her side-piece Randy had to work a shutdown all weekend so she wouldn't see him until next weekend.
Angelina was usually ready for a date. She and her boyfriend Brad were always eager to hook up. For now, she would leave her options open.
Cathy had just completed her morning run. She ran the five-mile round trip to the park and back in fifty-five minutes flat, a pretty good time for her.
She ran into the house and walked it off. She did her breathing exercises to bring herself under control. She walked out on the deck to look around the yard.
Cathy had several citrus trees growing in the yard and she loved using the fruit in her recipes. She had Ponderosa and Meyer lemons, Mexican limes and kumquats. The trees were a lot of work to keep but she thought they were worth it.
Cathy enjoyed growing her citrus and using the fruit in drinks and pies. Today, two Meyer lemons and four Ponderosas were ready. There were several limes that would be ready in the next day or two.
She used the Ponderosas, a few eggs, and some basic ingredients to make a lemon meringue pie. She put it in the gas oven for a few minutes until the tips of the meringue were brown then set it on the counter to cool.
She decided to work on her all-over tan, so she peeled off her running outfit and kicked off her Nikes. She laid a beach towel on the lounge chair overlooking the backyard and rubbed on a ton of lotion.
She did her back first, lying face down on the big towel. Even with cocoa butter slathered all over her alabaster skin, she could only lay out for a short time. She did her back for twenty minutes, rubbed on more lotion, then did her front for twenty minutes. The label on the bottle read, 'Turn or Burn' and she didn't want to burn the girls.
Cathy gave her boobs a quick feel; they were full, firm, and hot, slick with sweat and cocoa butter. She liked her boobs. Other girls had bigger boobs than she did, but Cathy thought her boobs were pretty hot too.
Time was up so she stood and stretched, sunshine glistening off her lightly tanned nude body. As light-skinned as she was, she could never manage to get more than a light tan.
Sunburn? No problem. Dark tan? Not happening.
Cathy figured a light tan was better than no tan at all.
She pulled out her messy bun, running her fingers through her hair, shaking out the honey-blonde locks cascading down her back.
She stood peering across the backyard, shading her baby blue eyes with her hands. She saw a tiny movement through the slats of the perimeter fence.
"Good morning, Mr. Johnson," she said and put her arm up to wave. She couldn't see him, but he never missed a chance to peep at her through a knot hole in the fence. He was surely getting his eyes full today.
Mr. Johnson's hand appeared above the fence and waved back, a loud voice saying, "Good morning, Cathy."
She giggled. He must have one knarly eyeball from looking through that knothole for nearly an hour in this heat. She put the towel over her shoulder and grabbed the lotion.
Mr. Johnson is an older widowed veteran who lives in the house behind Cathy's. At sixty-two, John is six feet tall with a classic dad bod. He has a handsome friendly face and hazel eyes with salt-and-pepper hair and a great sense of humor. He lost his wife Maggie to a car accident a few years ago. Now it was just him and his dog, Jake.
His daughter, Mary, and sister Jill visited him from time to time. He was fully able to take care of himself and did not hesitate to frequently and often hilariously remind both ladies of that fact.
Sometimes when Cathy was out front working in the yard or sitting on the screen porch he would stop by to chat and have a glass of tea.
Cathy always had gallon jars of tea on the deck railing soaking up the sun. She brought one of them in and set it on the kitchen counter. She toweled off, still damp from sweat and suntan lotion. Her skin tightened up and nipples stiffened as the AC cooled her.
She was getting a little chilly, so she threw on her USA flag bikini and coverup in honor of the holiday. She sat on the end of the bed and brushed her long blonde hair, humming along to an old song on the radio. She finished her hair and went back to the kitchen.
She took the lid off the one-gallon tea jar, pulled out the tea bags, and squeezed them into the liquid. Next, she dumped in about a cup of white sugar and stirred it in. She grabbed two big lemons from the kitchen window sill, cut them in half, squeezed them into the tea and dropped them in too.
Still wondering what she was doing over the long weekend, she poured herself a big glass of iced tea and grabbed a slice of pie and went out front to sit on the screen porch. It was cool out there with the big ceiling fans running. She could watch the world go by and have some pie.
The big screen porch ran down the front of the house with two doors facing the street, one at each end, directly opposite the front doors to the house. The lower half was solid, and the top half screened. The big ceiling fans kept the air moving and helped keep the bugs out.
The porch was furnished with two high-top tables with four stools and an old leather couch with two matching chairs. It was a versatile space with plenty of room to set up a porch sale, massage table or play cards at a poker table.
Her Schwinn was leaning against the side wall next to her room, her girlfriend's sat at the opposite end.
The big electric delivery van pulled up without a sound and came to a stop in front of the house. Cathy went over and held the door open so Dennis, the driver, could bring in the boxes. Her new toys were here.
"Hey, Dennis. Hot enough for ya?"
"It's 100 degrees in my van, Cat. The friggin' AC broke down."
"Oof! That sucks. Can you come in for a minute? Do you need a bottle of water or anything? I asked.
"No, thanks. You're my last stop. I have to bring the van in for service, then I'm off for the weekend."
