Frankie lived at home with his mother ever since the divorce almost two years previous. His mother was old, both his parents were in their forties when he was born and they'd lost his father over ten years ago. He was an architect, but not a glorious one. He specialized in barns and other rural structures.
"Someone's got to," he would tell people. He lived and worked upstairs, his mother lived and drooled downstairs, chair-ridden with a full-time day-nurse to look after her. His boss spent his life traveling the country selling and overseeing small projects, so most of his days Frankie worked at home. He rarely went out and his social skills lost polish, but he did good work; he had that to hold on to.
Frankie's desk sat overlooking his neighbor's yard. The first movement that caught his attention that particular day was people on the back deck over the fence. Casually glancing to see who was there Frankie was surprised, it was a guy he'd not seen before. He was tightening a knot on the towel at the waist, possibly coming out for a swim given he had no t-shirt. It wasn't exactly a pool towel, though. Surely, he should not be using a big white bath towel out by the pool. Who was he? What made Frankie pay more attention was the stranger reached back inside and pulled the youngest daughter of the family out onto the decking with him. She was also wrapped in a big white bath towel, but Frankie couldn't see any straps of swimwear over her shoulder. Over the years, none of the women next door had been in anything but the most conservative of swimmers and t-shirts.
Perhaps this was a boyfriend, perhaps her parents weren't home? Frankie shifted in his seat. Was he finally going to see her in some hot bikini after all this time? Instinctively Frankie jumped back from the window as that guy leaned further below their patio roof-line and looked at Frankie's window, then the other houses that were higher than the fence. When he dared to sneak back, it seemed that guy hadn't noticed Frankie at all. Whew. Oh, and then that stranger stepped in and held the girl like they were going to kiss. Surely this must be a boyfriend? Ah perhaps not, she didn't let him kiss her, she dashed back inside. But just as she got through the door... the guy was holding her towel; it had come off. If Frankie didn't know better, he would have sworn... he couldn't make out the color of the bikini. Was her hair already wet?
He waited and waited but they went back in and stayed in, evidently given up on thoughts of a swim. Pity, it would have been nice to see her in something other than what she normally wore out there. Who was the guy anyway? She wouldn't kiss him, so maybe it was just a friend, or a cousin or something.
Frankie went back to work, but the disruption meant he couldn't think so he took a break downstairs. His mother was happily parked in front of the TV, the day nurse asleep in the sofa beside her. He snacked, went to the loo, took a big bottle of soda with him back upstairs and managed to get back into the rhythm.
Sometime later he was interrupted again by a big splash, then another. Frankie's heart leapt. He turned his chair and looked through the slats. It was her, the younger sister, and what seemed like the same guy. He twisted his neck back to their decking, looking to see if anyone else was coming. There was no one. The boy and girl swam around and it didn't take long to work out this wasn't just a friend or a relative. It was at least a kissing cousin. Frankie had never seen that girl invite any boy to the pool, even in a group. Now she was in a clinch in the deep end with that young skinny thing. Well, not so skinny, but not as big as the podge beginning to stick over Frankie's own belt. Instinctively he sucked it in; perhaps it was time to start doing sit-ups.
When the couple went to the shallow end Frankie sighed, disappointed as ever. It was the same old frumpy swimwear the girl always wore. Gee, this must be the most frigid girl ever. Even alone with a boy she wears that. How many people would have an office overlooking the pool of a teenage girl and yet feel so disappointed? Boring, boring, boring. Get a life, girl.
They came in and out of the pool jumping, diving, splashing, mucking around, acting like normal teens. Frankie was just about to go back to his drawings when they got into a passionate kiss at the mid-point of the pool, close to his window. What caught his eye is it seemed like that guy was moving his arm in-between them, like he was squeezing her tits. Shit. Frankie couldn't see properly; her back was directly to him. Please, turn just a little, please. They didn't, she stayed where she was and the guy groped at her front under the water. The pool must be shallow enough to stand at that spot, they weren't treading water. But then Frankie almost fell off the chair when the stranger's arm came up, elbow in the air and his hand went down what he could only assume was her front. Holy shit, was that guy groping bare tit? She didn't do anything to stop him at all. If anything from behind it seemed like she was laughing at his awkward attempt to get into her boy-proof outfit.
That guy's solution to the problem had Frankie leaping for the video camera. Shit, where was the tripod? He bumbled and stumbled and crashed around the room and through the closet. Camera, shit no battery, where's the cord? Found the cord. Memory card already in there. Tripod, tripod, fuck, in the bedroom. He dashed to get it, then ran back as fast as he could. He looked out the window as he fumbled at screwing the camera to the stand. That guy had the strap off her shoulder and was kissing her neck. Shit, why do they make these things so tricky to assemble?
Eventually he got the video camera attached, stood up, powered and on. He fiddled with the focus, hitting record before it was ready. Shit, the slats on the blind weren't quite wide enough. He looked out, that guy was working on the other shoulder. Shit. Shit. Frankie couldn't turn the slats wider; they might see the movement. Instead, he pulled ever so slowly and slightly, raising the bottom of the blind by three agonizingly slow inches. He looked out and couldn't even see the straps anymore, they were underwater. Shit. He unclipped the legs and shortened the tripod, eventually getting it to a height giving a direct and uninterrupted view into the pool and yard. He was glad he bought this camera now. These Japanese models had outrageous zooms and he focused straight at the girl's body. Oh, he could see her talking as that guy was kissing her shoulder. What could she be saying? He did so wish he had a spy-mike.
The girl walked the boy deeper into the pool. Frankie was torn between watching the close-up on the camera screen and watching it live outside the window. Oh, she was lifting her arms out of the suit straps. Shit. She went even deeper in the pool. Frankie swigged at the soda; his mouth was completely dry. He looked on the screen; although you could tell she was pulling her top down there was no glimpse of breast under the water. The screen on the camera was too small. Frankie fumbled around for video cables, swearing, before he realized the microphone was right by him, not them. The video would be full of sound of his bumbling-around. More quietly he rummaged through the drawer and found the lead from the camcorder to the lap-top. Ah that was better. She was deep in the water so he couldn't clearly see her breasts, but on the bigger lap-top screen definitely there were times he could sense their shape, especially since that stranger was squeezing and pulling on them. The guy dropped his head underwater to kiss her chest, but soon came up for air, laughing and coughing. Instead, he grabbed her sides and lifted her up. Oh shit, why did she have her back to the window again? Frankie could see her naked down to her waist but not a thing of the mouth attached to her tits. Oh, please, please show me, he willed them. All these years of ho-hum, and now this? It would be too cruel if he didn't at least get one shot of those mysterious breasts that he could freeze-frame.
The girl hit her boyfriend to put her back down. She was yelling, pointing at the other houses you could see across the fence. The guy turned to look at them and grinned. His mouth seemed to say 'no one there', but Frankie couldn't be sure. Even so, the guy spun them around so his back was to Frankie's house. "Shit, her front is facing me," Frankie thought, "But he's in the way. The bastard. How did this lucky prick get to be the one to rub up against her?" He wished could see her tits, he wished he could touch them.
Those two in the pool stayed neck-deep in water for a long time. The girl broke off to swim but it was still just a hazy outline in Frankie's deep lens. He was hoping the guy couldn't keep his hands off her for long, that somehow, he'd help expose her. That guy came through for him. Closer to the middle of the pool he picked her up and threw the girl back into the shallow end. There was a blur of nipple before she hit the water. When she stood, Frankie got her tits full-frontal for the first time.
He sighed in relief and in awe, then for a moment panicked until he checked out the red 'record' light was successfully glowing. It was, he had it all, thank goodness. She stood showing her entire top half. Her breasts were covered in hickeys, both of them. Fucking hell. She had love-bites all over her tits. This was entirely different to how he always expected. The girl had hickeys on her tits. Gee, she was a minx all this time and he had no idea. Terrifyingly though, she was threatening to pull the swimsuit back up.
"Don't do that," Frankie said out loud. Whoops. He would have to edit the sound later. That guy dropped to his knees to put himself neck-deep in water again, seemingly to indicate he would prefer to stay under the water than have her dress herself. She crossed her arms over her tits and walked back into deeper water. It went on like this for a while. Occasionally Frankie would get an eye-full and lens-full of tits, but mostly she stayed covered up. That guy got out first, going over to the decking to the outdoor fridge. It looked like he got himself a beer. Gee. Suck the daughter's tits and steal the old man's beer. He's gonna love you, Frankie thought. That guy held out an offering to the girl. She came out to get it but kept her arms across her tits, looking around at all the houses for obvious peeping toms. Frankie wasn't obvious, thank goodness. There was an outside toilet she went to use. Her one-piece swimsuit was riding further up her waist after she came back out, but thankfully she hadn't put her breasts away. After a swig of beer, she gave up the premise of covering them up.
"Thank you, dear," Frankie said to the screen. The girl moved around topless, seemingly comfortable that no neighbors were home on a Tuesday to see her. Frankie zoomed in close to her tits when she stood still. The size of magnification on the camera was incredible. He could fill the screen with nipple. Some of the hickeys seemed older and yellower than others. Unbelievable, he thought.
That guy chugged on a second beer before he ducked away to the toilet, too. The girl covered herself with her arms while he was gone, but dropped guard as he walked back. The guy spun her away from Frankie and held her from behind, obviously squeezing and groping at her bare chest. Frankie wished so much he would do it toward him. But that guy did an even better favor, he reached out to pull down the bottom half. Frankie could see the top of her ass before she broke and ran back into the pool, still with beer in hand. He had to quickly adjust the camera to zoom back and shift around.
