tagToys & MasturbationA Peek into the Back Yard

A Peek into the Back Yard

byBigDocMojo©

It was a pleasant Tuesday afternoon, and I had taken the day off work to play golf in the morning. After I got home and took a shower, I was drying off when I happened to look out of my second-floor window. My neighbor, Maggie, was sunbathing in her back yard. It was a beautiful day, her 3 children were in school, and her husband often traveled on business; so she was enjoying some time alone.

I stopped to take a look at her. I had always been curious about what she would look like in a bathing suit, and I was not disappointed. She was in her late 30's and had a face that made her look a bit like Jackie Onassis. She had a nice, fit body. Her belly was flat -- nothing to be ashamed of. She had nice, trim legs that were a little muscular, and beautiful, thick thighs. She wore a blue bikini with a conservative cut, making it a little hard to really judge her breasts, but I could tell from the bit of cleavage that I could see from my second-floor vantage point that she had a nice, full chest. No question, Maggie was a very beautiful woman.

She wore large sunglasses and was reading a magazine, with what looked like iced tea on the table next to her. I watched her for a moment and decided that, for the hell of it, I would like to take a picture of this moment.

I went to get my camera, then decided to get my video camera instead -- after all, it has a zoom lens and can take pictures as well. I ran back upstairs and set up the tripod, mounted the camera, and zoomed in. After taking a couple of snapshots of her whole body, I turned on the video and stepped back to the window to enjoy watching her a little longer.

After a minute or so she set down her magazine and picked up some suntan lotion. I watched her put it on her upper arms, then rub it in slowly. It was a very sexy sight as she used her fingers to massage the oil into her skin. She traced her fingers along her shoulders ... then stretched out a little. Soon she picked up a towel and wiped her hands off, then resumed reading her magazine.

I smiled and turned away to get dressed. After putting on my shorts and a shirt I came back to the window and started to watch her a little longer.

She was sitting in a slightly different position now, legs crossed and sitting up a little more. Her magazine was in one hand, resting on her belly, and her other hand hung in mid air, as if it didn't know what to do. I went to the video camera and zoomed in as tight as I could on her magazine. It was a womens mag, and I smiled when I saw the headline on the article she was reading: "THESE 13 SEX SECRETS WILL BLOW YOUR MIND!"

Oh, I liked the way this was going. Then, I zoomed back out a little ... and I saw that she had started brushing her neck with her fingernails.

I stepped back to the window. She was tracing along her neck, then her shoulders, with her fingers. She did that for a few seconds, then her hand went to her chin ... and slowly down her body ... over the side of one breast, and down her belly, stopping at her bikini bottom. She set her magazine aside.

Then she started to massage the tops of both of her legs with her palms, pressing hard and raising her legs against the pressure. Then she used her fingernails again, sliding them up her side.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Was I really seeing -- and videotaping -- what I thought I was?

It appeared so. She brought both of her hands up to her head and ran them through her hair, stretching out and sitting up. She looked around .. but she knew she was alone in the house, and her yard has a fence. Nobody could see her. The only way someone could see her was from the second floor bathroom window of my house -- and, of course, I would be at work, right?

She decided was alone and the sensations her fingers were creating was too pleasant to stop. She went back to massaging her body, pressing her hands down her sides and legs. Then one finger hooked under the strap of her bikini bottom, and the other cupped her breast.

"This can't be happening," I thought. Then I looked at the video camera. Recording this wasn't right, I decided. I'd have to keep it private and always worry about the video being discovered. This memory will live on in my mind, privately. I stopped recording, keeping the camera on so I could look through the viewfinder for close-up views.

She brushed her thumb over the front of her breast, over her bikini top. She took her other hand and removed her sunglasses. Stretching again she sat up, and reached behind her back and undid her top.

It fell away and let free her lovely, soft breasts. They were probably a C cup; with much softer, brighter skin then the rest of her body, and they hung a little toward her sides. I zoomed the video camera in, noticing her small, hard nipples. She cupped both her breasts and began brushing the nipples, pressing her breasts together. She even leaned down as if to lick her own nipples, kissing the top of her breasts instead.

Then she let one breast go and looked down as she gently placed one finger at the top of her bikini bottom. Her finger slid down, disappearing between her legs. And there it stayed, where I could see her slowly pushing it, applying pressure and releasing rhythmically. Her mouth was open and she leaned back, eyes closed. Losing herself in the sensation of her finger pressing the fabric against herself she exhaled, closing her mouth and smiling a little, her eyes closing tighter.

She kept on massaging her breast while starting to rub herself, slowly up and down. She leaned back and arched her back ... she was going to make herself come. Breathing harder, her mouth open and looking like she was moaning a little ... losing herself in the tenderness of her touch.

One foot fell to the ground and she pushed with both feet, raising her bottom off of the lounge and twisting her body to the side a bit. Her fingers between her legs started circling on the fabric, her wrist twisting a little as she maximized the contact on her clitoris. Her other hand fell away from her breast and gripped the edge of the lounge chair and she sat up a little, looking down at her hand between her legs, mouth open in a quiet yell of pleasure.

Her wrist worked her two fingers around the bikini fabric furiously, then slowly .. and she suddenly whipped her other leg to the ground, leaned back, and lifted her hips. She hung there, her fingers suddenly pressed into one spot, barely moving.

Her mouth was open, eyes closed, and I could see her take a deep breath. Her orgasm was upon her. She held still, then I saw her whole body starting to shake. Her head twisted to the side and her hips clenched down back toward her lounge chair as she squeezed every muscle in an effort to prolong the pleasure.

When the moment passed she sat up quickly and ran her free hand through her hair. Her other hand came away from her clitoris. She brought her foot back up onto the lounge chair and pulled her knees toward her in a sort of stretch before extending them before her. With both hands she reached down and opened the top of her bikini bottom and started to put her fingers inside.

But she thought better of that, and instead brought her legs together and slid the bottom off of her instead, kicking the suit off of one foot, and returning that foot to the ground again.

As she tossed the bathing suit aside she started massaging the tops of her thighs again, using the heel of her palms to press long, slow strokes down toward her knees and back up again. Then her right hand -- which she had masturbated with before -- traced toward the inside of her knee and back between her legs, toward her clitoris.

She twisted her upper body away as she fingered her clitoris, as it must have been sensitive from the stimulus of being inside the cloth before. But she turned back, and settled into her chair, gently touching her breast with her free hand and slowly, gently, circling her clitoris with two fingers. Her head fell back, eyes looking off to the side, as she slowly enjoyed the feeling. She shrugged her shoulders, tightening her body, as if she was happily torturing herself with the ticklish, moist sensation. She reached across her body with her left hand, squeezing her breasts into each other, letting her fingers play with her right nipple.

I was stunned at how beautiful the whole scene was. She was lost in the enjoyment, as for this moment the only thing that mattered to her was the pressure between her legs. I was thoroughly turned on, but I stood quietly, watching, wanting to see where her passion was taking her.

She froze in the position with her one leg down and her body turned slightly to the side for a minute or more, not moving a muscle except for her two right fingers which circled slowly, then pressed down a little lower to withdraw some moisture from between her vaginal lips, then back around her clitoris. Each trip her fingers took must have been sending quivers of pleasure through her body, as soon I noticed her chest heaving with a quick breath every time the pressure left her clitoris.

She clearly wanted to feel more inside her, as she brought her foot back onto the lounge, her knees up. She laid back and butterflied her knees apart, spreading her legs but keeping her feet almost together.

I could tell that one finger was sliding inside of her. She reached down with her other hand and used it to open her lips, helping a second finger slide in. The stimulus made her arch her back with a jolt, her mouth opening and probably letting a moan escape. I loved watching her, how I wished I could hear her as well!

She pressed her fingers inside her, resting the heel of her hand atop her pubic hair, moving just her fingers in and out, slowly. Her left hand returned to her breast for a second, and after tracing around her nipple once she placed a finger in her mouth, then returned the moistened finger to her nipple. She looked to her side, saw the glass of tea, and dipped her finger in there, returning to her breast with the tips of her fingers ice-cold.

She twisted her shoulders and smiled as the cold fingers rolled her nipple. Between her legs her fingers were going in and out a little quicker, then she lifted her palm a little, slid her fingers out and up to circle her clitoris, before sliding them back down and back into herself again. She did that once more, and then again. She was nodding her head with pleasure, her mouth opening and closing. Her fingers were going into herself a little faster, her hand fell away from her breast and back to the rail of the lounge chair. Both feet went back to the ground, bracing her again. She arched her back -- an orgasm was building up inside her.

She craned her neck back and suddenly became taut, lifting her body and freezing there as she went to the edge of her excitement. She was still, except for her fingers going in and out of her in a disorganized, quick fashion that was becoming more of a spasm. Then I could see her body beginning to shake. Her mouth opened, she was yelling out. The pleasure she was feeling was etched in her face. I couldn't believe the beauty of the image. Then the orgasm crashed over her, She fell back into the chair, fingers pressed deep inside her. With her other hand she grabbed her breast but was shaking too hard to do much more than squeeze it.

She rolled her head from side to side and bucked her hips against her hand, letting the release of the orgasm flow through her. She curled up her body, rolling away from me. She laid still, her breathing heavily. She did not move as a breeze picked up, cooling her sweaty body.

Then she rolled back, removed her fingers from between her legs, and let her body collapse in the chair, completely spent.

I shook my head, amazed at the beauty and intensity of what I had just seen. I just stood there, wanting to etch the memory in my brain. Slowly she sat up, taking a huge breath, and as she exhaled she shook her head. She leaned over picked up the magazine she had been reading and tossed it aside. I saw her laughing, amazed that she had gotten so turned on as to absolutely need to feel an orgasm right then and there.

I was amazed too. I raised my hand to the window, an invisible "thank you" for the private moment I had seen.

I watched as she used her towel to wipe off her wet fingers, stood up, gathered her bathing suit, magazine, towel, suntan lotion and glass of tea and, still nude, went inside. As she turned toward the door she looked up at the sky, a big smile across her face.

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