The subject of this story is about an older man and a younger woman but please be advised that there is an degree of what some may call fetish involved. Nothing what I consider appalling although if you are concerned the story tags at the end will give you an idea of what to expect.
***
As I looked out of my attic window towards my next door neighbor's yard I kept telling myself that what I was doing was alright because just before most of the Davis family went on vacation Earl Davis had asked me to do just this.
"Keep an eye on the place," he had asked me before he, his wife and eldest daughter had embarked on a trip overseas, and I told him I'd be happy to.
So that's what I was doing up in the attic, although I don't think Earl wanted me to be up there with binoculars in my left hair and my stiff cock in my right while gazing down at his other daughter who was resting on a lounge chair obviously unaware that she was being watched.
We were a lot alike, I thought while sweat poured down the sides of my face, me and Earl's youngest daughter. My late wife had been the outgoing type and on the other side of the fence the other three members of the Davis clan were also that way.
Patty though? She seemed that she was a lot like me. In fact, this was the first time I had ever seen her out in the pool. Her Mom and Dad used it a lot and her older sister Julia seemed to live out there. Patty seemed to be the introvert bookworm type though, and probably spent all of her time hitting the books.
Maybe part of that was because while her older sister seemed to take about her mother as far as appearance goes with her All-American girl look; fair skin, golden brown hair and hourglass figure, Patty looked more like her father in many ways.
Patty had inherited her old man's dark brown hair, in addition to his rather large nose and plain face, and she has a rather androygenous body as well although I suspect she'll probably fill out as she gets older.
Then again, she might be older than I think. As I stroked my cock I tried to do the mental math. My wife would know because she took care of those things for us, but now I was stuck trying to figure out how long I had lived here.
Five years. Five years since we moved into what my wife called our dream house and four years since my wife passed away. One of the last things we did together was go the older girl's high school graduation party which meant Julia had to be 21 or 22.
Patty, the girl I was drooling over had just gone into high school that year so that means that the younger kid must be 18 now. Damn. How time flies. It didn't help that Patty didn't look it, at least in many ways.
Patty seemed to be very small breasted, although the very modest bikini she was wearing wasn't very flattering and she was on her back besides. Patty seemed pretty tall, probably around 5'7" or so but she was very skinny.
So why was I standing in my sweat locker of an attic jerking off like a deranged monkey while leering at my neighbor's daughter, who by most 21st century standards would have guys making wise-cracks along with the fake puking sounds?
Part was loneliness, because despite what my late wife had insisted before she passed, I had no interest in finding somebody else. I was nearing 60 and while I was in decent shape and not all that bad looking, I just didn't have the desire.
I wasn't meant for these times, and maybe when I looked at Patty she reminded me of my youth. The times when the music was good and the women were more natural, instead of the tattoo-riddled foul-mouthed girls that seemed to be in fashion now.
Suddenly I felt very creepy, guilty about what I was doing. What if Melanie was looking down at me right now, I thought as I forced my erection back into my trousers? That was ridiculous, of course, and besides if that were true Melanie would have seen a lot of what I had been doing over the last few years.
I hadn't felt guilty when I had squeezed out the first load about an hour earlier, I lamented as I grabbed the messy tissues that held the drying evidence of my perverted ways before going downstairs to at least change my soggy shirt.
Another productive day, I thought while tossing the tissues away and heading towards the bathroom where I hoped that a shower would cleanse my body if not my mind. A little work and a lot of reflection, although the jacking off while looking at a skinny schoolgirl was a new twist in my otherwise predictable life.
***
This was better. That was what I was thinking as I looked at my neighbor's daughter sitting only about 15 feet from me lounging in that lawn chair and blissfully unaware that the old predator next door was leering at her.
At least being out here kept me from jerking off and not having to look through the blurry window with the binoculars gave me a much clearer view of the gawky teen. My eyesight was still very intact, because as Patty lay there with her hands locked behind her head and her eyes hidden behind sunglasses, I could clearly see the little droplet of sweat trickle down her side from where it began.
Where it began. That was what gave me the most pleasure, when I saw that under Patty's skinny arms grew thick tufts of the richest looking dark brown hair imaginable. Seeing this back in my youth would have been no big deal because there were a lot of natural women who thought nothing of not shaving.
Now though in the 21st century, witnessing such a sight was nearly impossible. Hair was most definitely not in, and girls today seemed to prefer getting elaborate and often garish tattoos to adorn their bodies, permanent body art that they might not like ten years later when they faded with age.
Patty's armpits though? This was body art, as least as far as I was concerned, and when I looked at Patty I couldn't help thinking up my late wife Melanie and how she put up with my wishes. Every Labor Day she would stop shaving her armpits and let the hair grow until around Memorial Day when she would start shaving again for the summer.
Melanie was prettier and while she was slender like Patty she had a slightly more womanly build on her, so the real resemblance ended with the underarm hair from what I had seen so far. Still, the sight of natural Patty brought back pleasant memories and I even had to chuckle when I recalled how Melanie used to think that she was a rather hairy woman. Too bad she couldn't see Patty out here, because this young lady was far furrier than she had been back then.
"Hi Mr. Domino."
So deep in thought and reflection was I, along with being obsessed watching that serpentine droplet of sweat meander out of the jungle of armpit hair, that hearing the voice stunned me.
I didn't really recognize the voice but it had to be Patty because there was nobody else anywhere near us. Yet Patty remained exactly as she was, reclining and looking like she was dozing.
"Uh, hello Patty," I replied, and only then did Patty move, reaching down to tip her sunglasses up on her forehead before putting her hand back behind her head.
"Don't see you in your yard much anymore," Patty said as I tried to continue making eye contact despite my shame at being caught being a voyeur.
"No, not much reason to," I replied. "You aren't back her much either usually."
"I was out here yesterday, Mr. Domino," Patty said in a matter-of-fact manner. "Remember?"
As she said that last word Patty did a nod with her head, over and upwards in the general direction of my attic. I looked up at the dingy attic window, and as I did I felt my stomach do a flip.
"Uh."
I said that and it came out as a long moan while I tried to figure out something to say. I was tempted to say that I was up there looking because her father wanted me to keep an eye on the place but it was just as well I didn't.
"There was a glint that flashed when the sun would hit your binoculars," Patty explained, making my humiliation complete as I was being made a fool of my this kid, and the problem was I had no one to blame but myself.
"I don't know what to say," I finally managed. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry you looked at me or sorry you got caught?" Patty said.
"Both, I guess," I said, and a hint of a smile appeared in the corners of her mouth.
I offered a tight smile of my own, one tempered by the fact that in a week and a half she would have quite a story to tell her parents. How fast could I sell this house, I wondered. Not that fast, not in this depressed real estate market I concluded.
"Don't be," Patty said calmly. "If I minded yesterday I would have called the cops or something. I sure as heck must not mind if I came out here again today, right Mr. Domino?"
"I guess not."
"You want to come over?" Patty said. "We could talk."
***
"Make yourself comfy Mr. Domino," Patty said as she nodded to the padded chair next to her, and as I sat down she told me to help myself to a drink. "I brought out an extra glass."
There was a pitcher of what looked like fruit punch on the table, and I nervously grabbed the clean tumbler and filled it with the cool beverage.
"Were you expecting company?" I asked as my shaking hand overfilled the glass a bit while I tried not to stare at Patty's natural charms as I poured.
"I was hoping for some."
