Summer Escalation

It was in the spring of the year, and our lives were progressing. Kids were getting older, moving out of the house and into college. We found ourselves with the oldest two out of the house, and our youngest still at home. Having her driver's license, and an active social schedule, we seldom saw her around the house. The spring of that year we had decided to possibly rent out our bunk house for the summer. The extra money would help fund one of the three college tuitions that we would soon be on the hook for.

Renting out the bunk house came with the realization whoever rented it would have to share our kitchen, and the downstairs bathroom. In essence this was not a big deal. Our two older sons were off at college, and staying in the respective towns for the summer. Our daughter was seldom around, so it seemed to make perfect sense. After our final conversation, Ken and I decided to rent it out and see how it worked into our schedule.

We placed our ad in the surrounding papers, trying to find the perfect renter or young couple. After the first week, we had close to 20 calls. Most of them didn't pan out after finding out how much the rent would be. One of the last calls was from a man who was planning on taking a break from college to enjoy the summer up north. His name was Paul, and he actually vacationed up here when he was younger with his family. The money wasn't an issue; he had financial help from his parents. We agreed to a meeting to discuss all the specifics and see if Paul would be a good fit. We set the meeting for the next day in town.

The meeting place was set at a small sports bar. Paul came in and introduced himself, and we started to get to know him a little better. It turned out Paul was finishing college, and was going to start Grad school in the fall. He was a good looking young man. Paul had darker skin, straight brown hair and brown eyes. He and Ken seemed to hit it off and got along well. I found him to be quite attractive, and he had a great smile and personality. I couldn't tell if he was Italian, or even an African American mix but he fit the role of tall, dark and handsome. I asked where his hometown was, and he said he grew up in the suburbs of Chicago. After speaking about vacationing up here with his family, he showed us a picture of his family on his laptop and where they used to stay. In the pictures his father was black, and his mother was white. I couldn't help but think what a nice mix this young man was from both parents. We concluded our meeting and told Paul we would call soon about the vacancy.

Back at home, Ken and I talked about it over dinner. With more pros versus cons, we decided we would offer the bunkhouse to Paul. At our meeting, he gave us all of his contact information. I told Ken I would call him tomorrow on his mobile phone and let him know he could have the lease if he still wanted it.

The next morning I ran into town and did the typical chores and running. After getting groceries I stopped at a restaurant to meet a friend for lunch. As I was waiting for her to arrive, I thought I would call Paul to offer our bunkhouse to him. I dialed his mobile number, the phone rang but he never answered the call. I left a message for him informing him it was all his for the taking, and to call me back on my mobile when he had a chance. During our lunch, Paul called and I answered. He was ecstatic and excited that we chose him. He thanked me several times, and told me how much he appreciated the offer and was looking forward to be in the northwoods for the summer. Paul said he would be moving up this coming weekend. My friend Connie asked what we were doing, and I told her we were renting out our bunkhouse for the summer. After some idle detail chat she asked me if he was good looking guy. I told her he was quite good looking. Connie laughed and hit my arm which was typical for her, and said I would have to invite her over for lunch soon. We enjoyed the rest of our lunch and I was happy that we could make Paul so happy.

The following three days I thought about what our summer would be like with a new person around the house. I wondered if it would hamper our lifestyle, or if indeed it was a mistake to share our house and lake with someone we didn't know quite well. The weekend came quickly, and Paul called me on my mobile to let me know he would be there shortly. He called for directions. Until now, all he had seen was a few pictures we had showed him during our interview.

Ken was gone when Paul had arrived. I greeted him, and told him the garage and bunkhouse was all his. He thanked me and called me Mrs. Johnson again. I insisted that he call me Penny from now on. Paul grabbed one of his bags and I walked him up the stairs to the bunkhouse. He looked excited about his new summer housing. I told him to make himself at home, and to let me know if he needed anything. He came over and gave me a hug, which kind of surprised me, and said Thank you Penny. I laughed and told him to get settled in and relax. After seeing him again after the interview, I was reminded how he was an attractive young man. I couldn't help but notice when he did hug me, he was solid and muscular. He was a little over six feet tall, and had a real nice smile with straight white teeth.

I smiled to myself as I started walking back into the house. I was glad he was so excited to be up north, and to share our little slice of heaven. A few minutes later he was out on the dock in his swimming suit. He wasted little time swimming in the lake. He had on a bright pair of board shorts, which accentuated how dark his skin was. He literally had no body hair, and was definitely toned. Very toned, and pretty muscular, he must work out regularly I remember telling myself.

Ken came home later that afternoon and we decided to have a cookout on the deck. It would be a nice ice breaker and a way for us to welcome Paul and get to know him better and remove any of the awkwardness. During dinner, the conversation flowed, and the meal was perfect. The sun was setting on the water and the wind died down. He and Ken didn't run out of any topics to talk about, and I found myself asserting our decision that we chose the right person. After dinner, we had another round of drinks on the deck. When I would speak to Paul he would look directly at me. He would nod as I was talking to him and look at my mouth for an extended period of time and give a small smile of approval. He was definitely cordial and polite, but the way he would smile and the length of his gaze made me wonder what he was thinking. To be honest, it made me feel pretty good that this guy was maybe checking me out. When Paul would talk to Ken it wasn't as long, and certainly not as big of a smile that he was giving me.

Later that night when we were in bed, I told Ken I thought we made the right choice. He agreed and mentioned that Paul must have been in Track or some other college sport because of his physique. He also said that Paul was pretty lucky as well. He will have a great place to stay and a beautiful woman to look at every day also. He asked me if I caught the way he was looking at me. I told him I didn't, and Ken said it was all night long out on the deck, and that he could tell that Paul thought I was a good looking, attractive woman. I told Ken it was just his imagination and that it probably excited him to think there was something there, since that is his ultimate fantasy. We said good night and I rolled over on my side. I smiled to myself thinking about the night, the way Paul did look at me, and what my husband had said about him. I did notice it and it was nice receiving the attention.

The next few days flew by. We kept to our schedule, social activities, and Paul to his. Everyone seemed to get into their routine, and we hardly noticed he was there at our house. When I would run into Paul he always flashed a big smile, and continued with the long looks. It happened consistently enough that I knew it wasn't my imagination. I was unsure if I was returning the looks and smiles or even reacting the same way to him.

It was about two weeks into his stay when I found something that caught me off guard. It was Wednesday evening, and the garbage was to be picked up the next day. I started making the rounds throughout the house and then into the office. I thought I should empty the cans from the bunk house as well. Paul was in town, so I wouldn't be invading his privacy and space. On my way up into the bunk house, I emptied the garbage cans. I looked around and he rearranged the bunk house. Paul had moved the beds together at the end of the bunkhouse and set up a bigger desk for his laptop and other books and files by the window.

Looking at his desk, I saw that his laptop and lamp were still on. I went over to the desk to turn off the light, and saw something that caught my eye. Under a couple of big books on his desk I saw three or four magazines that were partially covered by the books. I picked the books up and saw that they were magazines with naked women on them. Normal, nothing wrong with that until I noticed the name of the magazines was titled MILF. The magazines showcased older, sexier woman. My face felt flushed with a rush of blood, and my heart started to beat harder in my chest. It seemed that Paul had a thing for older women. All of the looks, glances, and smiles toward me hadn't been me over reacting, or had they. I started to get aroused thinking maybe he had a crush on me, or thought of me as an attractive woman or even in a sexual way. My nipples stiffened under my bra, and I felt the tingling start between my legs. My common sense and rationale finally kicked in, and I realized it could be magazines someone had given him, and that it didn't necessarily mean he was interested in me, or older women for that matter.

As I set the books down back over the magazines, the movement of the table bumped the mouse and the computer screen came on out of the screen saver. I looked at the screen and it all looked pretty normal. There was a task bar open at the bottom of the screen labeled summer escalation. I know I shouldn't have been that nosey, but seeing the magazines, my curiosity and my libido got the best of me. I took the mouse and clicked the bar at the bottom of the screen and up popped the contents of the file. There were two files in the folder, and they were labeled Journal, and Pictures. I clicked the pictures icon and opened up the file. There were a lot of Jpegs and I clicked one of them to see what he had been taking pictures of. During the split second it took to open the first picture, I wondered if it would be local landmarks, scenery, or pictures of things he had been doing around town.

The first picture opened, and it made my heart beat even faster than it had been already. It was a picture of me. I was outside working in the back garden. The next picture was also of me, as were all of the pictures in the folder. They were of me outside, working in the garden, down by the lake. There was one picture of me in my suit. I must have been cold, because my nipples were standing erect, straining my suit. Paul had taken that picture, and even cropped it to just show a close up of my nipples. The final pictures were at night and were shot into our bathroom. I was barely visible from all the steam and the blinds that were down but not fully closed. This really confirmed my suspicions of his attentions toward me. At first it was the long looks and smiles as well as the magazines in his room, now seeing that he had been taking pictures of me without my knowledge. It felt like my nipples were even harder than before, and there was definitely more stirring between my legs with the realization he did find me attractive.

There were quite a few pictures, and after I had scrolled through all of them, I hesitated and debated if I should open the file labeled Journal. I thought I had violated his privacy this far, I may as well since it was a click away. I opened the file and started to read some of the passages and entries. They were all documented by date. At first, it was about the lake, scenery, and some of the fun things he was doing. Then it turned from that tone, to comments about me. Paul had noted how he thought I was a sexy, attractive and stunning woman. Each day he would document, and as each day would pass the documentation went more from activities to thoughts and comments about me.

He had mentioned how he was becoming more attracted to me, and how he would try to catch glimpses of me down by the lake without being too obvious. One of the entries he mentions how he would love to see what I look like naked, and how he is becoming more brazen looking at me through windows at night to have that opportunity. He said he is trying to figure out if there is a pattern to when I shower, or get dressed, and maybe even would find a time if and when I masturbate. With all of this hitting me at once, the journal, the pictures, him finding me attractive, my head was spinning. The second to last entry he wrote how he is becoming obsessed with seeing me naked. He imagines what I would look like nude, and if I masturbate. He wrote, "She is such a beautiful, nice woman. I am finding it hard to not look her at her and tell or show her how I feel. I want so badly to see her, and watch her. I often fantasize at night that I look into her bedroom and catch her pleasuring herself. I will remain conservative and not aggressive and try not to look too obvious that I desire her. I only hope there may be some acknowledgment from her about my infatuation." The final entry Paul writes how most every night he fantasizes about me. He plays a scenario of the two of us together, kissing, touching, and holding each other. "I slowly jack myself off to the picture playing in my mind. I have a clear and vivid picture of Penny on top of me, looking at me, slowly riding up and down milking my cock. I time my release to the vision of us climaxing and cumming together in my head."

Reading the last journal entries really got me aroused. The realization this young stud wanted me. He is taking pictures of me, writing about me, and eventually hoping to actually see me naked. He is hoping for a sign, or a way for him to be assured to try and take it to the next level. I was in awe, but if I said it didn't excite me, my body betrayed my words. By now my clit was pulsing with my heart beat, and I could feel the wetness starting to build. I had the urge to touch myself and give myself a quick orgasm, but common sense told me to get out and get back into the house.

As we went to bed that night, I thought about all the pictures and the journaling Paul had done. I was truly flattered, but not quite sure how to handle this. I didn't want it to get out of control, but also knew I could let it go as far as I wanted. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind was racing. I was thinking about Paul and what to do if anything at all. I started to visualize and think about him, seeing him in his suit, with his shirt off. My mind wandered like his, and I started to fantasize about him. I wondered if he was a good kisser, what it would feel like to have him hold me in his arms. Is he a good lover, what about his cock, how big is it and what did it look like. Long, fat, thick, curved. The sexual thoughts ran through my mind, and didn't stop until I started to touch myself. I was so wet and very aroused. I pictured him kissing me in the bunk house, and slowly taking my clothes off as he kissed me. I came so hard and so quickly that I didn't have time to take my mental image further than that. The warmth transcended through my body, and it felt wonderful. As I lay there in bed, I wondered how to deal with this developing situation. Paul definitely had a sexual interest in me.

The next day I was sitting on the dock and thinking about the things Paul had wrote. He wanted to see if he could see more of a pattern with me, or any kind of sign that I maybe felt the same way toward him. I wrestled with what to do. Part of me wanted to play the game. Give into temptation and make little gestures or glances to show Paul there is some interest. Should I make myself more noticeable, if not only for his visual benefit, but for my ego and self esteem as well. Should I be more consistent in my daily routine to give him an advantage to see more of me? After a couple hours of thinking this over, I decided to let this go just a little further and see how things play out. I will do some of the subtle things Paul wants to give him an opportunity to see more of me.

During the next few days, I decided to be a little more revealing with my clothing choices. If Paul wanted to see more of me, I would subtly and slowly give him more to look at. I wanted to make sure it was subtle, all of it. I didn't want to make it obvious I knew of his desires and intentions. The idea was to give him an opportunity to see me in more revealing and provocative clothing. I would make sure he had that opportunity, and I was curious to see what his reaction and new direction might be. Would he be more forward, or would he still admire from afar. I was looking forward to seeing the reaction, and to see if he would try to slowly seduce me, or how he would find extra time to spend with me. The thought of him seeing me, and trying to figure out how to build more of a friendship had me curious. It was exciting, and keeping me in a state of heightened arousal and lost thoughts.

Some of the things I did differently were wearing different swimming suits. I started to wear my bikinis again. I also wore the suits that were tight and conformed to my breasts. There are a few of my suits that when wet, suction tightly to me, and my nipples when hard are easily visible. I worked out more at home. I would wear my shorts and Lycra tops, and the bralettes that gave little support, but showed off my breasts, if not better than the swim suits I had been wearing. When Paul was around, I would make sure to keep eye contact longer, and look at him with the smile he always gave to me. If he would look at my lips and smile when I was talking, I would do the same to him when he was talking to me.

I was tanning on the dock one afternoon, when I heard Paul come down and sat in the chair next to me. We talked for a while and decided to swim. We swam out to our raft and lay in the sun again for a while to warm back up. Paul was the first one up on the raft. As I came up the ladder I could feel my hard nipples under the wet suit. I did nothing to hide them, and sat back on the trampoline on my elbows. I wanted to make sure he got a good look. As we were talking, I laid down on my back continuing our conversation with my nipples still poking and pushing out my suit. We continued to talk and the sunglasses I was wearing hid my eyes from him. As we were talking I opened my eyes slightly to look at Paul out of the corner of my eye. While I was talking to him, he was looking intently at my body. I could see him checking out my legs and spending a lot of time examining my chest. When I would look up to talk, he would change his gaze to the lake or back to the shore.

I started taking showers at ten o clock each night. Nothing unusual, but I would shower at night instead of the morning, and almost always at the same time. The blinds would always be down, but not rolled shut. After showering, I would dry off and put my hair in a towel, and then put lotion all over my body. It was about a five minute process where I would be totally naked and exposed if he chose to look at me. After the lotion, I would put on my thin satin nightgown and finish getting ready for bed. That nightgown is thin and shows all my curves.

During these days after I read his journal, I noticed Paul hanging around at home more often than before. We started having some lunches together, and even just talking more often. As we would be talking, I could see him out of my peripheral vision looking me up and down. It seemed the subtle changes I had made were catching his attention. Then one morning while I was doing the laundry, I noticed a pair of my underwear that I didn't remember wearing recently. When I picked them out of the hamper they were crumpled together and had a white crusty remain all over them. It didn't look like anything but what I thought it was. I went up to my bedroom to check my underwear drawer. It seemed to be disheveled and not put in place as I had left it. My pajama drawer, with some of my sexier things looked the same, like it had been rummaged and looked through. I was missing one of my satin teddies.