Doing the Laundry

It was a beautiful day and I decided I'd kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. I had washing to hang out and I'd make sure I caught a little sun while I did it. I slipped on my bikini and got to work.

The first thing I did was turn on a noise-maker. I wanted music and so I got music. Then I grabbed the basket full of laundry and danced out to hang it up. And I meant danced. The music was good, the day was fine, I was young and feeling energetic, so why not dance? Not that my partner was much help. The basket just lay in my arms like a lump. Pretty much the same way most men dance, I guess.

I dumped the basket on the ground and started hanging things up. I shimmied and shook as I worked, shaking my hips and moving to the beat. I reached out to grab something from the basket with my toes, decided not to when I saw I had green feet, courtesy of new-mown grass, and swivelled, instead. Standing on one leg, the other straight out behind me, I just bent at a ninety degree angle, back in a straight line with my outstretched leg. I fished something from the basket and hung it up, trying to keep a perfectly posed posture while I did it.

I was dancing from the basket to the line and back, bouncing on my toes as I went. At one stage I saw that my breasts had a tendency to keep on bouncing even after I stood still. I giggled and did a few rapid jogs on the spot, watching them bounce.

"I don't know what's more fun," a voice said. "Watching you bend over and seeing your breasts threaten to burst free or watching you stand upright, making them bounce."

I gave a little squeak, swinging around to see who was there. It was Jeff, a neighbour, now watching with interest as my breasts wobbled from side to side, a side effect of me spinning around so fast.

"Oh. You gave me a shock. What are you doing here?"

"Um, do you mean why did I come, or what am I doing now that I'm here?"

"Ah, either. Both I guess." I was puzzled. Weren't they one and the same thing?

"Well, the reason I came was to collect my lawn-mower. I saw Jorge had finished your lawns so I thought I'd better get on with mine. What I'm actually doing, now that I'm here, is watching the dance of the bouncing boobs, and a fascinating little dance it is."

I blushed, but there was no way I was touching that comment.

"Oh, right, the lawn-mower. Jorge has finished, thank you very much. It's over there." I pointed to where Jorge had parked it after completing the lawns. Strictly speaking he should have returned it instead of Jeff having to fetch it.

"Yeah, thanks. Tell me, is the top support or decoration?"

"Excuse me?" What the hell was he talking about?

"The top," he said, tapping his chest. "Do you actually require it to support those puppies or is it there as a bit of decoration as society mores dictate that a bare chest is something horrendous."

Horrendous? Nothing about my breasts was horrendous. I gave him a nasty look.

"I wear the top because it's part of the bikini," I said, trying my best not to snarl at him. "It's de rigueur for a lady to wear one and you know it."

"So not hiding anything horrendous," he said, and he was laughing at me. "In that case, since there's only the two of us, there's nothing to stop you taking it off so I can enjoy watching your breasts bounce naturally."

"Nothing but my natural modesty," I told him sweetly. Take off my top, indeed. Did he think I was born yesterday?

"Um, no, that's not stopping you," he told me. "You don't have any natural modesty."

"What?" Was he accusing me of being a tart?

"All modesty is trained into women. They are told modesty is shown by hiding your loveliest features. Ridiculous really. If left to grow naturally women would be quite willing to display their breasts, knowing that they're attracting male attention."

"You're kidding," I said. I could hear the tone of flat disbelief in my voice.

"That depends," he said, sounding thoughtful. "If it persuades you to take your top off so I can enjoy some natural bounce then I'm not kidding. If it doesn't, then I am."

"Not going to happen," I said smiling. "Nice try though."

"So how do I get you to take it off? Can I appeal to your sense of pity? There's nothing more pitiful than a man begging a girl to show him some boob."

"You can't. I'm married, remember. So are you for that matter. Where's Kate today?"

"Visiting with her mother. You know how I get along with my mother-in-law. Like a house on fire. All that yelling and screaming and the fire and smoke. One of us always winds up getting burnt."

"Perhaps if you were nicer to her?" I suggested.

"The old harridan doesn't want someone being nice to her. She wants someone she can walk over and wipe her feet on. That's not quite me."

I had to smile at that. Kate had told me her mother thought Jeff had delusions of grandeur. Then she'd giggled and patted her groin, saying that they weren't delusions. My eyes flicked down to his groin and then away, quickly, while I blushed slightly. He certainly had something prominent down there.

"So why are you blushing and why are you changing the subject?" Jeff asked.

"I'm not blushing," I told him, "and I wasn't changing the subject."

"Yes, you are, and yes, you were. You have a nice tinge to your cheeks. Have you been thinking naughty thoughts? Possibly about the subject you were trying to change, which was you taking off your top to relieve my anxiety."

"What anxiety?"

"The fear that if you don't take off your top now I may never get to see those wondrous mountains. I can just imagine them, two glorious peaks, tipped with a rosy hue."

"Not going to happen," I said.

"But why not? What does it matter? I get the pleasure of seeing your breasts. You get the illicit thrill of showing them off. Would it help if I helped take it off?"

"No," I told him. "Why on earth are you so persistent?"

"Because I want to see you. Do you realise just how sexy you looked, bouncing about with your breasts continuing to bounce after your feet had stopped. Is it really too much for you to lower your top and give a little bounce so I can see them in action?"

I glared at him feeling somewhat exasperated. Really, who cared if someone saw boobs? Old fuddy duddies of both sexes, that's who. You saw then all the time down at the beach and no-one complained, unless they were one of those poor souls who didn't have boobs to flash.

"Fine," I said, reaching behind me and unhooking the main strap. "Fine," I repeated, lifting the top off over my head, holding it in one hand. "Satisfied now?"

Jeff was just standing there with a stunned look on his face. There was no way he'd expected me to take it off. He had just wanted to irritate me. Now that I had he was at a loss as to what to do.

"Now, if you don't mind, I have washing to hang up. Like I said, the lawn-mower's over there."

I didn't bother putting my top back on. A little bit of sun on my breasts wasn't going to hurt them and having them bouncing around freely was probably driving Jeff out of his tiny mind. Also, my totally ignoring him while hanging out the washing was probably irritating him no end. Men hate being ignored.

I should have remembered that last bit. I was so busy ignoring Jeff I didn't even notice him coming up behind me. The first I knew of it was when I reached up to peg something on the line and my bikini pants went down.

I spun around to face him and would have fallen flat on my back if I hadn't had the good fortune to drag a foot out of the pants tangling my ankles. Come to think of it I'm not sure how good that fortune was as it left me standing there facing Jeff, naked. Me, naked, that is. Not Jeff.

I could practically feel his eyes running over me but I was damned if I was going to try to cover up. I just gave him an icy stare.

"If you don't mind," I said coldly, and you could just about see the icicles dripping from my words.

"I don't," he said. "You look quite sensational. I was prepared to take a slap to see you like that."

"I didn't slap you," I pointed out. "Yet."

"Oh, too late to slap me now," he said, oozing confidence. "If you were going to slap me it would have been an instinctive and immediate thing."

The fact that he was right did not help my mood.

"Just go away, Jeff," I said.

"But I like talking to you," he replied.

"Yes, but as you can see you have me at a slight disadvantage. You should be able to see it, as you're certainly looking hard enough."

He gave me what could only be described as an evil smile. Movie villains would pay good money for a smile as evil as that.

"Never let it be said that I held an advantage over someone," he said.

With that his trousers hit the ground and, while he may still have had a top on, his nakedness was apparent to the most casual glance. I now understood what Kate meant when she said his delusions of grandeur weren't all delusions. He had a magnificent piece of masculine equipment on display. Not that I was looking. Apart from that first casual glance when his trousers went down and maybe a second glance to be sure that my eyes weren't deceiving me.

"If you don't mind," I said, and he laughed.

"You already said that," he pointed out, "and if I didn't mind then why would I mind now. Did I tell you how magnificent your breasts are?"

I just gave him a look. He nodded as though I'd uttered words of wisdom.

"I didn't think I had. That's because I was lost for words seeing your munificent blessings in all their glory. I knew then that words couldn't express the joys of such wondrous beauty and I'd need other ways to convey my sincerest admiration."

It turned out that other ways to express his admiration were tactile and taste. His hands came up and captured my breasts, fondling them and stroking them. Before I could push him away he had leaned down and was kissing one, his mouth moving over my nipple and sucking gently.

If that wasn't bad enough when his mouth closed over my breast his hand closed over my mound, stroking me down there. I quite naturally shied away from his touch, only to find I wasn't going anywhere. His free hand was on my back, holding me in place.

I bit my tongue hard to avoid saying 'if you don't mind'.

"Just what do you think you're playing at?" I managed to say.

"I'm seducing you," he calmly replied.

"You don't seriously think I'm going to let you make love to me?" I asked him, shocked at his audacity.

"Ah, let me see. You're naked. Your breasts are slightly swollen and your nipples are erect. Your pussy is wet and your only objections so far have been feeble verbal comments. You're not screaming or struggling but you are holding firmly to my erection, so the signs are indicative of you yielding to my masculine charm."

I sorted through what he was saying, coming quickly to the flaw in his logic.

"I am not holding your damned cock," I said indignantly.

"Then whose hand is wrapped around it?" he asked and rather belatedly I saw that it was mine. I was holding his damned cock, even though I hadn't intended to. I hurriedly released it. Damn, but there was a lot of it.

I'd been quick to let his cock go once I found I was holding it. I was even faster coming to the conclusion that this was a mistake. Jeff promptly pulled me flush against him. I could feel that cock pressing against me. It wouldn't be able to do that if I still had a hold of it. His arms were around me, his hands clutching my bottom, making sure my groin was firmly pressed against him.

While what he was doing was most improper it didn't particularly worry me. That is, it didn't particularly worry me until he started lifting me. His hands tightened their grip on my bottom and he raised me quite smoothly, me being plastered against him the entire time. I could feel his cock dragging against me, finally pressing against my mons. A little higher and it had room to move, now edging between my legs. Jeff held me still at that point.

"What do you think will happen when I lower you," he asked.

My eyes opened wide. Where his cock was pressing I had a very nasty idea of what would happen.

"Oh, no," I told him. "Don't you dare."

"I dare," he said, repeating his evil smile. That's the only way to describe that smile. Pure evil.

He did dare. I felt myself being lowered slightly and his cock only had one place to go. Up me. I gave an indignant and furious cry as he lowered me but that didn't do much good. His cock still pressed firmly into me, making its leisurely way along my passage. It had to take its time. It was too big and fat to go in fast, my poor passage having to adapt and reshape itself to make room.

"If you've quite finished squawking," Jeff said in an affable tone, "you might consider wrapping your legs around my waist. It will make things go a lot easier."

For who, I wanted to ask, but as my feet were still dangling, barely touching the ground, I didn't see that I had much choice. I lifted my legs, circling his waist, intending to take the chance to lift myself up off his cock a little. It didn't quite work out that way, did it? As soon as I lifted my legs my position altered slightly and he sank even deeper into me. Now my legs were wrapped tightly around him to make sure he didn't rupture something.

He just stood there, wearing me, if effect. All I could do was wait to see what he was going to do. I'll admit I did give a small wriggle trying to get just a little more comfortable, something hard to do when you're sitting on the pointy end of a giant pole. Jeff, damn him, laughed, and asked me to do it again.

He finally started moving, downwards. As I was so firmly stuck to him I also moved downwards. When he settled onto his knees and leaned forward I found myself going backwards, finishing up flat on my back with him lying in top of me, his cock holding me firmly pinned to the ground.

Then, oh my god, he started bouncing on me. I suppose, looking back with hindsight, he was just moving his cock back and forth, agitating me. What it felt like was being the bottom half of a trampoline act. All his weight would be on me, pressing me into the ground and then he'd rise up and away from me before dropping firmly down on top of me again.

I was shrieking and carrying on but whether that was me protesting or me getting carried away by the excitement he was causing within me I haven't the faintest idea. I didn't want this and my shrieks should have been strident protests. My whole body seemed to be relishing the action, however, so maybe those protests didn't exactly sound like protests.

I found out he wasn't in it for a quick bit of slap and tickle. Jeff was taking the long view, seeing how long he could last, doing his best to reduce me to an oozing puddle of sensation in the meantime.

I couldn't believe how long the whole thing was taking. If this sort of thing happened to Kate every night I didn't know whether to pity or envy her. Jeff went on and on, with me gamely trying to stay with him. Well, of course I was responding and doing my bit. I mean, if I just lay there and let it happen he might still be going. I thought it was best to give him a little encouragement and push him over the edge as soon as possible.

I had to stop yelling as I just ran out of breath. I needed all the breath I had to keep going. I could feel myself going wild and could do nothing about it. I finally found my breath again when I climaxed, and I only hope no-one heard me.

Jeff thought it was funny. He was laughing as he finally pulled out, happy as can be. Damnit all, he genuinely seemed to think that because I'd climaxed everything was fine. Would you believe he even offered to come back and see me again sometime? I explained what I thought of him and what he'd done and he effectively patted me on the head and said don't worry.

"I know. I know," he told me. "You're a married woman so you feel you have to protest. You've done that so let it go now."

He strutted off, bouncing along happily, with his lawnmower. And men wonder why women shoot them occasionally.