Silently, she arrived in our sleepy neighborhood by inhabiting a house that had been vacant for years. And, inhabit she did as two huge moving trucks were followed by random trucks and such to add to the mystery of her burgeoning reputation.
Our neighborhood was one of close knit oneness so aware of change and nuance. So, to have a stranger arrive and remain elusive behind a cloud of hearsay put into the motion that rumor mill.
Rumor had it that she was a divorcee emanating from a marriage that had crashed to the ground in flames. And, from those ashes emerged a woman that allegedly demeaned and disparaged her husband into a heap of bankruptcy.
And, this is what ignited my intrigue about this statuesque woman. She supposedly was a dominant woman with a quandary of lovers both male and female. Her ex-husband made a stand against her boundless dalliances beyond their dominant/submissive relationship but the gesture was futile as he felt the tug of his mental collar. Our neighbor was allegedly a dominatrix of epic proportions.
A dominatrix within walking distance of my little white picketed existence.
I never saw her until that day at our swim club. A day like so many other days at the swim club surrounded by tanning friends and naughty conversation. Talk that suddenly made me realize I was in the presence of my elusive neighbor.
Her name was Mrs. Harrison and she was truly statuesque in a white bikini totally contrasted by her perfectly bronze surface. Thin white material that barely contained and held her endowed body. Those spaghetti straps strained against the strain of her weighty bosom. White material accentuating her nipples in full enabling the club members within proximity to both scorn and admire her blessings. I was among the latter.
Mrs. Harrison had to die for tits and I was in a full unashamed stare. Those pronounced areolas had me hypnotized in a trance of scenarios all sexual in nature. They assumed a rhythmic jostle as she strode within an air of immense self confidence. Suddenly, seeds of my bisexuality were taking root in my heterosexual soil.
The topic of my friends' conversation that had originally drawn my attention to this next door amazon had suddenly faded into the surroundings. My friends were all around me but my peripherals disappeared as I was drawn into this woman's sexual magnetism. Gazing from afar as she delicately walked around the perimeter of the pool with that welcome jiggle.
And, just as my friends had picked up on her presence, I sensed that her radar was picking up on my interest. Knowing glances from her were burning holes through my innocence. Even from across the pool, I could sense an unwinding of a plot. Random movements slowly became a personal catwalk of seduction.
Mrs. Harrison was sizing me up with such stealth. If anyone else had scanned me in such a way I would be instantly wary but I wanted this. I wanted to be examined by this woman as her eyes locked into mine. And, though we were one in observation, she still managed to find an open lounge chair dangerously close to my heterosexuality.
And, as I unashamedly dissected the possibilities I was clenched by surprise from a sight I had never seen in public. Yes. Her breasts were so inviting but there was another invitation contained within that wanton body. Just above her bikini bottom and just below her navel was a prominent appearance of dark body hair.
Amongst those girl talks was the subject of pubic hair and the necessity of its removal. Not being one to contradict the agreeing flow of the conversation I would nod my head in agreement though I hadn't shaved or trimmed since high school. But, this body hair of a stranger was both exotic and erotic as it was forcing me to follow its notorious trail towards her the rim of her bikini bottom. And, as my exotic and erotic neighbor eased into a prone position I saw that she too was one sharing in my natural pubic state.
Mrs. Harrison apparently was privately hirsute. Her natural state was both concealed and revealed as the material tightly held her secret.
Seemingly and purposely, she chose to lay down next to me within a dangerous close proximity. The woman simply had an aura of pure primal sex. So comfortable in her tan skin as she eased back arms up in the air and back. And, with that simple motion she revealed one more intriguing aspect of her body which were thick tufts of dark hair under her arms.
Lying next to her in my self-generated silence, all of my environmental sound was absorbed by my laser like gaze upon her. Even though her eyes were closed, I sensed that she knew I was taking inventory of her entire body. From her pedicured toes now revealed after kicking off her "fuck me" shoes to fingers adorned with jewelry that seemed to portray a dark side.
She was in silhouette as the sun accentuated her exterior with that special sunset illumination. An outline of intense light intensified what I had witnessed about her from afar. Nipples completely swelling through material that barely contained her. Follicles of dark hair proudly outlining her tight skin from her navel to her bikini bottom. This was an anatomy that was inviting me without words.
Suddenly, that bubble of silence was broken by the sound of my friends gathering to leave. Immediately, I closed my eyes feigning a deep sleep so as not to interrupt this unexpected sexual trance. Noises of folding chairs and clicking flip flops fading into the distance informed me of my success at playing possum. I smiled with satisfaction as my closed eyes delivered me into blur of reality and fantasy.
A day of relentless swimming, sunning and sneaking out to our cars for cocktails enabled sleep to grip me and take me into an unexpected but welcome REM sleep. That napping sleep that produce my most vivid and bizarre dreams. Unconscious thoughts fed by the present with my immediate environment providing the soundtrack. Strange yet sexual visuals of this woman that was an unknown but apparently my subconscious wanted to be known. Holding me close, this Mrs. Harrison had me in her control with my butt cheeks in her hands. Boobs touching and crotches rubbing I wanted her mouth on mine. I wanted to see the eyes behind those sunglasses just to get a measure. Then she said my name "Pattie". She was having whole conversations with just my first name "Pattie". "Pattie" her pouty lips repeated as I tried to kiss and lick them but she remained elusive.
"Pattie" was said with both volume and caring from a voice outside my mind.
"Pattie" was repeated over slowly with such a caress it was like someone was gently shaking me awake.
"Pattie" was the one word the one name that became the first sound of her voice as my glossy eyes focused and opened to Mrs. Harrison leaning over me. Her whisper of my name contained so many meanings all at once with her hand upon mine telling me the true definition. I lifted my hand to hers as she gently pulled me away from my slumber. My view was full of her hanging tanned tits. Real boobs pushing at huge nipples pressing through the strain of her bikini. Unashamedly, I lasered my gaze between them wondering how they would feel protruding over me naked.
A quick break in my hypnosis I realized that enough time had passed since my eyes fluttered shut that most of the regulars and my friends were long gone. Long shadows replaced the poolside occupants. Employees were gathering towels and straightening chairs and skimming the waters as my legs straddling my lounge chair lifted me with the help of a strange woman's hand.
