If you visit southern Florida any time between late June through August you would more than likely hate the heat, humidity and crawly things. But for me, suffering through all of that is worth the Shangri-La that the rest of the year provides.
Sure, there will always be those foolish people who will blindly tell you how much they love 'the seasons' but then they've never known nor experienced the pure year round pleasures of a privacy fence.
My father's job moved us from the mid west to Sarasota Florida, thirty six years ago right after I turned sixteen.
At the time it was considered a modest house, kind of a long ranch style stucco model slab home that Florida is known for. At twenty-six hundred square feet, it was much nicer than the one we left.
Over the years my parents made many improvements, from the twelve by thirty foot glassed in lanai to the large hand packed in ground pool and of course ... the privacy fence.
My father built it seven foot tall at the highest end of our lot and dead level across the top. He constructed it from solid cypress and it boarders the entire back yard affording total, and I mean TOTAL privacy.
I guess with the pool he didn't want people looking at his wife and daughter in our little bikinis.
I was fifty two, working on a project in Chicago when I lost my parents and being executor of their trust, they invoked the 'Lady Bird Act' that automatically transferred the deed to me at the time of the death.
When I flew back down in my bereavement to make whatever arrangements they may have over looked, I found that the area had built up around them quite nicely and for me it was a no brainer to move in.
For a few thousand dollars, I added the necessary things that northerners will never truly understand or for that matter, find the time to enjoy.
An outdoor shower went in on the end of the lanai and I added an old claw foot tub near it and had the plumber pipe it in the center of a little tropical plant garden that it waters when the plug is pulled (try that up north) a large multi jet spa, weather proof flat screen and a stainless outdoor kitchen and bar area with a refrigerated tapper that sits next to a mini fridge.
My inner home stays clean and strait because I spend practically all of my time outside within the privacy fence.
If I'm not having old friends down or new friends over I enjoy my outdoor oasis totally nude, keeping a robe handy only in the event that I need it to answer my side gate or front door.
Early one morning I was missing Mom and I took my coffee out and found the Florida predawn air to be crisp and cool. I removed my robe and laid it over the back of the chaise, then eased myself down into my heated spa and turned on the jets.
The water level is just below my breasts and the warmth of it and the cool of the pre-sunrise mist made my nipples hard.
As the jets bubbled up between my legs, I tried to put the loss of my folks out of my mind. The water temperature and motion was relaxing and it started feeling so good, that before long I was focusing on a favorite fantasy.
I positioned myself over a single jet so it would impact my vaginal lips and I set my coffee down and spread myself a little with my left middle and index finger to allow the pressure to hold me slightly open while the bubbles rolled over my clitoris.
I put my arms up on either side of the spa to just enjoy that feeling for a while and as I felt an orgasm slowly mounting, I laid my head back and began fondling my breasts.
Just when I was trying to choose in my mind who my imaginary lover would be, a noise came from overhead that sounded like the tinkling of a small chain and I was instantly brought back to reality.
I looked up over my pool and past my palm tree and saw a lineman coming down the opposite side of the utility pole that is on the right outside corner of the privacy fence where I was facing.
In the dim light I could see that he was young, strong looking and definitely under forty.
He brazenly stopped his decent about a foot above the top of my privacy fence, and said, "hey, please don't let me interrupt you lady."
Embarrassed, I had no snappy come back for him and all I could think to say was, "please don't let me keep you from your work."
When he came around to the side of the pole, I could see his muscular forearms, skinny waist and a softball sized lump at the front his of his cut off jeans.
I thought to myself, at my age I'm no supermodel, but I am in good shape and I was proud of the fact that I just may have given this younger man a raging hard on.
He answered, "hell lady I'm done for the day, I just had to complete this one trouble call. I would like to ask you for a bottle of water but I can clearly see under these circumstances it might be a bit awkward for you."
I pointed to my left and said, "not at all, I can grab you a cold one not ten feet from me, there in the little fridge under the bar, do you want to look away for a moment?"
He chuckled and said, "no I really don't."
I don't know why I said it, but before I could stop myself to reason out this situation, "well just come down, get undressed and grab one yourself and while you're at it, bring me one over too," came out of my mouth.
He asked, "are you serious?"
Being already committed and calling his bluff I said, "if you're really that thirsty."
He practically leaped from the pole, pulled his tool belt and work boots off and sat them under the palm and walked past the pool.
He took off his shirt and shorts piled them on the seat cushion by my robe and sat his hardhat on top of them.
Wearing only his jockey shorts and a pair of white sox he snagged our two waters.
Just as he was walking toward me, the jets timed out and the water became crystal clear, but I made no attempt to cover myself.
He stood at my left on the side of the spa and handed me the bottle. I extended my arm to the right of me and held it on the ledge and I dropped my left arm down my side in the water.
Without wasting time he reached his left hand under my chin and slid it down my neck and started to trace the profile of my breasts, areolas and nipples.
I laid my head back and as he fondled me and I felt a soft sigh come from my chest and without looking directly at him I heard myself say, "why don't you get in."
I watched him turn his back and remove his sox, he was thin with a tiny hard butt, but broad shouldered and he had kind of a farmer's tan.
When he turned to face me his forearms looked like Popeye all muscled with large veins and he started to climb in.
I said, "sorry but those sweaty briefs have to go too".
Without a word he turned, pulled them off and kicked them on the patio. When he turned back to face me, my eyes darted to see what had been making that huge lump in the front of his pants.
What I saw literally took my breath away.
He climbed up and sat on the front edge of my spa directly across from me with his back to my pool and his pole that he discovered me from.
As he dangled his feet and calves in the water, there was no way I could take my eyes off this remarkable package.
He wasn't real long, his shaft stuck straight out for about three inches and kind of down to the left for another two as it hovered erect over a scrotum about the size and spherical shape of a large grapefruit.
It had huge veins running the entire top length of it, much like the ones on his forearms.
What he may have lacked in length he certainly made up in girth, for the mushroomed shaped head was much, much larger than a golf ball.
The shaft was only slightly smaller at the ring of his tight circumcision scar but it resumed its full beefy thickness just behind that, all the way back to his body.
Up close its massive head was smooth and shiny like satin.
When he noticed me staring at it, he placed his palms flat on either side of his hips to raise his butt so he could slip the rest of the way into the warm water and I heard myself say, "please wait, not yet."
I knew that the only reason I said that was to fully experience him close up and natural without the scent and flavor being tainted by the chlorine in the water and I was a bit embarrassed.
When he stopped to look at me, I quickly moved across the short length of the spa toward him.
I placed my hands between his knees and as I spread them a bit, I asked, "may I?"
When he politely answered "be my guest," I reached in under that heavy scrotum with my right hand and cupped the warm, drum skin tight flesh that housed his two gigantic balls.
I worked my right middle and index fingers under and in between them kind of supporting them in my hand and when I traced that little fleshy seam that ran down the center of his sack with my thumb, his head went back just a little and he drew in a deep breath of air through his nose.
I brought my left hand up to his fat cock and gently held it between my thumb and three fingers and I could feel his every heart beat each time that it throbbed.
As I lifted it to see the underside, it pumped out a marble size drop of clear liquid from the opening and it shined like a large four carat diamond in the soft light of the early morning dawn.
Apologetically he softly said "I'm sorry, I tend to do that, I could never control the amount of precum that I produce."
