Mrs. Taylor's Hot Tub
At the time, I was working at a large landscaping company during my summer break from college. My roommate, Dave, had gotten me the gig with his uncle's company. It paid well, and I enjoyed being outside most days. It wasn't until late July that I began to regret the punishing sun and long hours hauling mulch, trimming bushes, and weed whacking around houses.
Most nights I went home and crashed on the couch, ignoring my friends pleads to meet them at local bars or restaurants. In fact, it had been weeks since I contacted most of them. I was just too exhausted. This also was the summer that Lindsey informed me that she was sleeping with a guy from the soccer team and had been for the past three months. We had had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants and she dropped that bomb on me. I don't remember much of what was said, but I remember driving home and staring at the wall for an hour or so before I shrugged and went to bed. I had to work the next morning. That morning was when I first ran into my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Taylor.
I was walking out of the front door in my cut off shirt, sunglasses, and khaki shorts. In those days—my early twenties—I was fit, tan, and energetic. Dave and I had been renting a nice condo in a quiet suburban neighborhood near St. Petersburg. To our right was a house with a family of four and to our left were the Taylors. Mr. Taylor, from what I gather, was a commercial airline pilot with Delta that flew out of Tampa every two days. Sometimes he'd be gone for a weekend or a few nights of the week. They had a nice house and drove lavish cars. Along the way they attempted to have children but Julie—Mrs. Taylor—was unable to do so. Either way, they lived next door and I had only caught glimpses of them leaving for dinner or heard music playing from their screened in pool area.
That particular morning, I was almost to my truck that was parked near the dual mailboxes. Mr. Taylor's black Mercedes Benz was missing and suddenly I noticed Mrs. Taylor standing near the front of my truck. She was wearing a pink, silk Kimono adorned with a lilies and bamboo stalks. Probably brought home from Japan by Mr. Taylor. That particular morning, I noticed her incredibly smooth, tan legs that curved from her slippers to the barely noticeable ripple of skin beneath her ass cheeks. Her thick, wavy brown hair fell down around her shoulders while she flipped through countless letters as the hot, Florida sun rose above the ridges of houses.
She turned and smiled at me. For a woman her age—I'm guessing barely forty—her features were still stunningly young. Her lips were full, slightly pouty, and eyes shone a deep emerald. "Why, hello."
"Oh, hey," I embarrassedly smiled.
"So, you're the guy that lives next door? I've seen you a few times but never really talked."
I was half out of my truck, and she turned slowly, her Kimono sliding slightly apart so that I could see the deep cleavage between her breasts. "Yep. That's me."
"Well, nice to meet you. I'm Julie Taylor."
She held out her slender hand. I took it and felt her smooth palm within my grip. "Nice to meet you. I'm Austin."
"Oh. Have you lived here long?"
I really needed to get to work but staring into her eyes from beneath my dark sunglasses held me captivated. "Yeah, we moved in around March. I go to the USF branch in St. Pete."
"Oh, yeah. College. Nice."
Did she just bite her lower lip?
I was imagining things. Had to have been. We chatted for a few minutes more and she said something about having a drink on the patio near the pool or using the pool (Dave and I didn't have one) and I left for work. As I drove away, I watched her strut back toward her house and out of sight in my rear-view mirror, which almost led to me taking out an old man walking his dog in the street.
That night I got home late just as the sun was beginning to set. I parked my car beside the mailboxes and glanced over toward Mrs. Taylor's house. There was a light on in a room on the top floor. Suddenly I thought about her pink lips, the tan legs and that pink Kimono. A sudden shudder fluttered in my stomach and I shut the car off and went inside. Dave was gone, again. He had been spending more time at his girlfriend's house that lived thirty miles away and most weeknights I had the house to myself. My muscles and back ached from the grueling day in the sun. I found a lone beer in the refrigerator, popped the tab and stepped onto the steaming hot back porch. The sun had fallen behind the distant palm trees and I watched the pink fingers trace their path across the purple sky. For a few moments I listened to the distant tree frogs and crickets while the wave of pure exhaustion washed over. I took three long chugs of cold beer and let out a slight belch. That's when I heard the jacuzzi jets from next door. I glanced over in time to see the back of Mrs. Taylor slide into the bubbling water. Her hair was tied atop her head in a perfect bun and her long slender neck rocked from side to side while she ran a hand up and down, caressing her muscles.
Again, I felt my stomach jump. What was it about this woman? I watched her from my porch—
I know, creepy
—for a few seconds while I finished my beer. She sat, her head reclined on the side of the jacuzzi while the bubbles frothed and churned. I imagined her body beneath the water while my excitement grew.
Suddenly she turned around and spotted me. We locked eyes. As quickly as I could I pretended to drink from my empty can and glance out at the darkening sky—
"Hey, Austin."
I acted surprised to see her, "Oh, hey. Mrs. Tyler, was it?" I acted like my heart hadn't raced knowing she remembered my name.
"Call me Julie. You just off work?"
"Yeah. I just got home so I'm gonna go take a shower."
"Why don't you come over and get in the hot tub?"
I laughed, "Little hot for that isn't it?"
"No," she played with the bun atop her head. With her arms raised I could see her bare shoulders and chest running toward her naked breasts that sat just below the surface. Jesus, she was topless over there. My blood started to race. "It's good for your muscles."
"Thanks for the offer, but I uh...am pretty tired. So, maybe another time?"
"Okay. If you ever want to use it just let me know."
Let you know. Sure.
I walked inside and stood in silence for a moment. My heart was beating out of my chest and I could feel my penis beginning to swell.
Jesus Christ
,
that woman
. I looked for another beer, stripped out of my filthy clothes in the laundry room and ushered myself to the shower. With my bedroom lights off I slid my window blinds apart and tried to get an angle of the Taylor's pool, but I could only see the blue glow of the lights.
Shit.
In my mind I could see her naked body rising out of the water and wrapping a towel around her glistening waist. Her large breasts dripped water from her hard, dark nipples and she played with the bun atop her head. I tried to see if I could see her again, but it was no use. Instead I fell back onto my unmade bed and quickly began stroking myself. It had been a long day and the image of us both in the jacuzzi caused me to become rock hard. I saw her hand fall beneath the water, find my hard dick and traced her fingers up and down my shaft. Cut to her bent over on the edge; her full, tan ass cheeks spread as I am penetrating her from behind. She moans and lets her hair fell across her shoulders. My soaked dick pounds her hard and the slapping from our bodies sloshed the water out of the hot tub onto the tile. I look down and see her rippling ass as my torso impacts her. In my room, I continued to stroke my cock, harder and faster until I felt my balls tighten and the familiar twinge of pleasure moving up the shaft. A few moments later I released several streams of hot cum onto my chest and stomach and let out a low moan in the darkness with the glow of Mrs. Taylor's jacuzzi splashed against my blinds.
I didn't see Mrs. Taylor for a few days after that. It wasn't until Lindsey decided to show up at my front door that I first used the Taylor's pool and jacuzzi.
She had shown up, unannounced, at my front door crying. Lindsey said that the soccer player was a jackass and she was sorry that she ever allowed herself to be that vulnerable. It seemed both desperate and oddly adorable. Her large blue eyes filled with tears, she whipped them away, she attempted to kiss me, I let her a few times, over and over. Finally, we began kissing heavily and I knew things had to stop. I couldn't be with her after what she'd done and how it ended. Lindsey told me that she truly loved me and began undoing my pants, but I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.
Her car pulled away from my driveway and my gaze shifted to Mrs. Taylor's empty driveway. I thought about it for a brief second and then let my door close behind me.
So here I am, back where the story began. I have been using Mrs. Taylor's hot tub for the past two weeks. The night after Lindsey left, I came over and asked if I could soak in the tub. She was holding a glass of red wine and wore a Rolling Stones t-shirt with tiny blue shorts. "Of course," she told me. I soaked that night by myself. The jets pulsing around me and the hypnotic jade glow of the lights surrounded and washed over me. Ultimate relaxation. Lindsey was still in my mind and I kicked myself for not taking her back. Until Mrs. Taylor came out. I sat up straight as she strutted from the sliding glass door, past the pool edge, and toward the jacuzzi. She had a fresh glass of wine in her hand and the green light of the hot tub danced across her hypnotic features.
Julie Taylor sat down and dipped her smooth legs into the water and took a drink of wine. For her age, she was gorgeous. This is the time she informed me of her life. Her husband, the airline pilot that is gone three days a week, the failed attempt at children, her job at the medical clinic in Tampa. It all came out. I didn't speak much, but simply nodded and occasionally wondered what was underneath the gray t-shirt. Her legs kicked slow through the water, and I suddenly remembered the night I had jerked off thinking about her. A little embarrassed, I averted my gaze toward the dark night beyond.
Why was she being so nice to me? She had to have been interested or else this wouldn't be happening. But,
I thought
, she's a married woman and fifteen years older than me.
And this is where it gets interesting.
Julie had given me the passcode to their side door that moved through the garage and unto the back-porch pool area. She told me in case I wanted to use the jacuzzi and neither she nor Mr. Taylor were home, I could slip in, swim, use it, slip out without anyone knowing the difference. I hadn't used this method yet, as I'd only been in the jacuzzi once or twice and both times Julie was there. One night she let me into the area without coming out to talk with me. I thought this was weird, as she simply stayed in the house watching television and drinking more wine. Maybe Mr. Taylor was coming home. Again, I didn't think she could be doing this out of the pureness of heart. I also began to think of her more and more. On my way to and from work I would shoot side glances toward her house from under my dark sunglasses. Some days the black Mercedes was in the driveway, most days it was not. I had yet to meet Mr. Taylor but I began to think of him as somewhat of a dead-beat husband. Julie never said much about him to me, besides his profession and being gone. Maybe their relationship was in shambles. Maybe I was some type of young eyepiece. I hated to think of myself in that way, but it also gave me something of a rise.
So, there I was, soaking in the jacuzzi. I'd rang the doorbell first and when no one appeared home, I moved to the side entrance and used the code; moved through the garage, fired up the jacuzzi jets, turned the atmospheric light to blue, undressed to my board shorts and sank into the hot, rushing water. It was a long day at work and my muscles relaxed, sending tingles down my spine and up my neck. I let out a long, exhaling breath and closed my eyes. I'm unsure how long Julie had been watching me, nor do I know how long my eyes had been closed. But I suddenly when I opened my eyes there was Julie Taylor, standing above the hot tub in ocean blue scrubs. She must have been at work. I slunk back to the edge of the tub and wiped the water from my eyes.
"Mrs. Taylor. Sorry, didn't know you were home."
"Julie," she smiled. "I just got home and saw you had used the code." She held up her cellphone.
"Oh, yeah. Gotcha. Sorry." Suddenly I felt strange for letting myself into her house. "Late night?"
"Yeah, I worked a double shift, today."
I quickly made note of her curved figure underneath the tightly fitting scrub pants.
"It's been a day," she made a strange stretch with her arms. I also realized she was wearing thin rimmed reading glasses. "Mind if I join you, or do you think it'll be too crowded?"
"No, no. It's fine. Your hot tub, anyway. I can leave you to it." I started to make a motion to get out.
"No, you can stay in. It's fine." Julie then paused and rocked her weight onto her left hip. My stomach began to flutter. Something was up. "I mean, I usually get in...naked. Do you mind?"
"Uh," my breath caught in my throat. I didn't know what to do. My heart raced, my blood boiled, and I felt a slight twinge between my legs. "No, uh. I can go."
"Are you uncomfortable about it?" She smiled; she knew I was flustered. She was toying with me.
"It's just, Mr. Taylor and—
