Watch Me

I pulled up in front of my friends Mike and Shannon's house and killed the engine, getting out to feel the hot sun beating down. It was a hell of a day for yard work, ninety plus degrees by my estimation, but here I was at a house that wasn't even mine to do exactly that. My shorts were already sticking to the backs of my legs from the heat. likewise my T-shirt.

Mike and Shannon were married about a year when they bought the place, a "fixer-upper" according to the real estate guy. The backyard was enormous (at least by California standards), but all overgrown with tall grasses and weeds. They'd cleared most of it out except for a few bushes and a Myers lemon tree had taken on gargantuan proportions over the last 45 years. It had to come out before the cement contractor came to pour the patio, so here I was to play the part of unskilled labor and help get the thing out. I'm not smart, but I can lift heavy things, as the T-shirt saying goes.

I was in an odd position with them, because Mike was cheating on her and I knew about it. We worked together, did some travelling together, and he was not above hitting the singles bars or even picking up a hooker now and then. I liked him, but he was kind of a sleaze. I didn't want to lose him as a friend, so I kept my mouth shut about it around Shannon, though I guess morally I should have said something. Like I said, I was in a weird spot.

I knocked on the front door, but nobody answered. I walked around the side to the gate. They'd erected a new six foot fence all the way around the place, and being just under six myself, I had to stand on tiptoe to peek over.

The side yard looked positively lunar, with almost the entire surface churned up by the rototiller into baking clay dirt clods...not very good for growing things, but they had a load of chicken shit coming next week to enrich it before they laid the sod. The massive lemon tree was out of my sight, but I knew it loomed behind the house at least thirty feet high. I sighed and wiped the back of my arm across my forehead.

I didn't see nor hear any sign of Mike or Shannon which surprised me. I expected them to be deep into it by now. "Hello? Anybody home?" I hollered. Nothing.

Reaching over the fence, I unhooked the latch and pushed the gate open, closing it behind me. "Hello?" The hairs on the back of my neck started to rise a little, my imagination quickly dreaming up an escaped lunatic with a baseball bat and a paring knife, drooling into the dead faces of my friends as he waited for me.

I came around the corner, and there was the hulking lemon tree, and up in the tree was Shannon, standing on a branch with her back to me. The electric chainsaw hung by its cord from a branch near her, and the pruning shears were hooked on a branch nearby as well.

Shannon is a good looking woman, and I'll be the first to tell you that. She keeps herself in shape with aerobics, keeps her diet under tight control, and doesn't wear much makeup...she doesn't need it. She had on a faded blue T-shirt and pair of mike's old flannel boxer shorts. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail. I opened my mouth to call out a greeting, but stopped myself. There was something odd going on I couldn't quite put my finger on at first. She had one gloved hand on a branch above her head, and the other hand I couldn't see, because she had it in front of her. She stood like that for a couple of seconds, and then jerked her head backwards and gasped. Then it hit me: She was masturbating. She was looking over the fence at something (or somebody), and had her hand down the front of her pants! Holy shit.

Now that I had it figured out, I could see her legs trembling a little and hear her breathing. She was trying to be quiet, but you could tell it wasn't easy. Her legs and the arm above her head were rigid and quivering, beaded with sweat . Periodically, she'd take in a deep gasp, and then pull her free hand up, running it over her breasts and belly before sliding it back down inside the elastic waistband of the boxers. All the while, she kept her eyes glued to whatever was on the other side of that fence.

I could not believe it, and I stood there watching, slackjawed. Even though I really couldn't see what was going on, it was quite erotic. The sound of her desperately hushed breathing and trembling, sweaty body were very arousing, and I was vaguely aware I had a hard-on like an 18 year old kid on Viagra.

Her breathing got faster, and I could tell she was getting close to coming. A low moan came from her as I watched mesmerized, and then the sound of the truck pulling in to the driveway. Mike was home.

Shannon's head snapped back at the sound and her eyes locked on mine. Her face was flushed red, and her eyes had this incredible sexy, half closed look. We stood there like that for a few seconds, me with my raging hard on clearly visible, her with her hand still down the front of her shorts, now turned slightly towards me I could see her arm pushed down the shorts.

"Hey, Mike!" I called, hoping to break the spell.

"You here already?" he called from the front of the house. Shannon started to move. She pulled her hand out, and started to climb back down the tree.

"Just got here!" I called. "You probably saw me drive up!"

Mike pushed through the gate. He had a bag of fertilizer cradled in his arms. "Had to pick this shit up today, because they're closed tomorrow. Give me a hand? There's plenty more in the truck."

"Oh sure!" I said, heading back out to the driveway to get a bag myself.

"Here kind of early, aren't you?"

"8:00. just like always."

"9:00 today. Didn't you get my page yesterday?"

"Oh yeah!" I smacked my forehead. He'd sent an e-mail to my pager the day before. "Christ! Sorry, man."

"No problem." He smiled. "Not like you caught us in the sack."

As I headed out the gate, I looked back. Shannon was giving me this very odd, unreadable look.

The day progressed. We got that tree down bit by bit with clippers, ropes, and chainsaw. We weren't pros by any means, but Mike is king of the Do-It-Yourselfers. Give him a book and he'll figure it out. Shannon and I shared a couple of looks during that time, and I just could not get a handle on what she was thinking. She was just sort of studying me, judging by her eyes. I couldn't look too long, though, or it would have been quite obvious what I was thinking. Midway through the project, I got sort of curious about what Shannon had been looking at, so I got up in the tree to tie up a branch with the rope, and on the way up sneaked a peek over the fence.

The view was of the neighbor's yard. I glanced around, seeing nothing really interesting, until I happened to look through an unshaded window. There was some guy in there, sitting on the bed with his back to the window, in a bathrobe like he'd just gotten out of the shower. Sitting on the bed behind him was a nudie magazine, clearly open to the centerfold, and a small bottle of something that looked like lotion. It wasn't hard to imagine what had been going on when Shannon had been staring down at him: This guy had been jacking off to a porno mag. I kept climbing up without stopping to tie that high branch, but my mind was all over the place, and that massive hard-on was back. I took my time with the tying to conceal it.

In the end, it was me ankle deep in sawdust bent over with the chainsaw, cutting the stump as close as possible to ground level for the stump grinder. As the stump thumped to the ground, Mike and Shannon applauded. The chainsaw spun down and I rose stiffly, pushing up the safety glasses, and Mike clapped me on the back and saying, "It's payment time!"

My standard payment for a day of manual labor is a bellyful of beer and pizza. We headed down the street to a little mom and pop place with about a million different beers on tap, ordered up a pizza and a couple of pitchers, and chatted the evening away. I was on one side of the table, Mike and Shannon on the other, as we laughed and joked around about the day's events. Obviously, I kept quiet about the sight that had greeted me on my arrival, and about what I'd figured out.

After a couple of pitchers had come and gone along with the pizza, I got up to use the can. After I had done my business, I opened the door and there's Mike. "Next," he says with a grin, pushing past me to get in.

I headed back to the table and sat down. Shannon is giving me that inscrutable look again. "So," she says.

"So."

She starts to turn red again and looks down at the table, and all at once I felt really bad for her. She must have been embarrassed as hell "Hey," I said. "Don't worry. I'm not saying anything to Mike. Far as I'm concerned, I didn't see a thing."

She looked up at me quizzically. For a second, I thought she was going to tell me I was crazy, or ask me what the hell I thought I'd seen, but what she said blew me away completely. "Mike already knows."

I sat back, stunned. "He knows?"

"Oh yeah. He knows I like to watch guys. He won't let me watch him, but he doesn't care if I watch other guys." She leaned forward, giving me this little smile. "I saw your hard on from the tree. I've been wondering how to broach the subject, but since it's on the table..." she trailed off, and her eyes flicked down my chest for an instant before coming up to rest on mine.

Realization dawned on me. "Mike..."

"I told you he doesn't care, but if it bothers you, he doesn't even have to know." She sat back, and her eyes flicked down my chest again. I could see her nipples were hard through the T-shirt and bra she had on. She really was a beautiful woman. Damn, was this really happening? I nodded okay, and she smiled. "Great. Should I come by your place tomorrow for dinner and drinks, and then..."

"Sure," I croaked. "Perfect." She gave me a wicked little smile.

The next day, I cleaned up my bachelor pad, and threw on a nice pair of jeans (read: no holes) and an oxford. I wasn't exactly sure how it would work, but I definitely wanted her to be comfortable. About six o'clock, there's a knock on the door. I open it, and there she is.

She had on a navy blue cardigan sweater, showing considerable cleavage (and clearly braless), and matching skirt that came down to her knee, exposing her shapely calves in black stockings. Her straight light brown hair was up in a bun, and her long, graceful neck was extremely sexy. She had a small hand bag in her hand. She smiled at me and leaned in for a hug and kiss on the cheek. I don't know what perfume she had on, but it smelled great and I told her so. She thanked me, and then headed past me and set her bag on the floor. "Okay, let's go," she said.

So we headed out on the town. I took her to an upscale Thai place, and then a couple of bars, all within walking distance...the advantages of a downtown apartment. We chatted like old friends, had a number of drinks (including a shot), and then headed back to my place. In spite of the alcohol in my system, I was pretty nervous, but my dick certainly didn't seem to know it. It was like a wooden baton in my pants the whole evening, and I caught her eyeing it a couple of times.

We got into my apartment, and as soon as we were inside, she was all business. She turned to look at me, a wisp of hair that had escaped from her bun hanging down into her face. "This is how it works. There is not touching, no kissing, no nothing. You aren't getting a blowjob, and you sure as hell aren't getting laid. This is look, but don't touch, understand?" I nodded.

She scooted a chair back from the table and set it next to the bag. She sat down and crossed her legs. "Okay then." she said with a smile that sent a quiver through my rock-hard cock. "Strip." Her eyes moved over my chest and shoulders as I unbuttoned the shirt, letting it fall to the ground. I kicked off my shoes and socks, and then unbuttoned the jeans. Her eyes rested on my crotch as I worked my way down the fly and pushed the jeans off. stepping out of them, I stood before her completely naked. Her eyes were glued to my erect penis, and her face was flushed, lips slightly parted. Without taking her eyes off me, she reached down into her bag and pulled out a bottle of lube and tossed it to me. I caught it, and sat down in a chair across from her, squirting a little of the lube into my hand. A drop of precum had already appeared at the tip of my dick.

Shannon licked her lips and uncrossed her legs, opening them and then squeezing them back together. She ran her hands over her skirt. "God, you have a beautiful cock. Stroke it for me." I was happy to oblige. Her face was becoming more flushed. I smiled and started gently rubbing my cock. It felt great, and I was already so horny, I knew I had to go slow to make sure this wasn't a short show. I closed my eyes and a moaning sigh escaped me.

When I opened them, Shannon had reached a hand into her cardigan, and was slowly caressing her breast, her eyes glued to my glistening manhood. She seemed to be entranced. It was incredibly erotic, having a woman watching me slowly stroke my dick. I gave it a gentle squeeze at the top, sending a shiver through my whole body, watching her watch me. She opened her legs and squeezed them together again. God, she was hot. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

My eyes met hers. "Fucking you," I replied huskily, stroking my cock up and down, my hips giving an involuntary thrust. I wasn't sure if what I said was in the rules or not, but I was beyond caring. Her eyes told me I was doing just fine, as she moaned softly.

She bit her lip. "Play with your balls. I want to see you play with your balls. Play with them the way you want me to." I reached my other hand down and cradled my sack, gently caressing it. "Oh my god," she said. She pulled her hand out of her cardigan and unbuttoned it, sliding it off her shoulders. Her breasts were beautiful, firm and round, capped with pink nipples that were taut and hard like marbles. Hiking up her skirt to her waist, she spread her legs wide apart.

He pussy was like a perfect pink rose, glistening with her sweet honey, and the bead of her clitoris standing out prominently. Her hair was neatly trimmed to a small patch above her slit. Her hand slid down her bare, sweat-beaded chest to her wet pussy and started to gently rub her clitoris. Her eyes, half closed, never strayed from my pumping hand, my cock glistening with oil and precum. "Tell me about fucking me. Am I a good fuck?" she breathed. Her free hand massaged and kneaded her breasts, pinching and pulling at the nipples.

"Oh yeah. Oh you have the sweetest little pussy. Tight and wet...God it's so good..." Another groan escaped me. It wasn't gong to be long now.

"Do you want to come in my pussy? In my sweet fucking pussy?" her voice was thick with lust, and her breath came in moaning gasps. The hand between her legs worked furiously, making wet slapping sounds as she rubbed her hot pussy. Her hips ground in a sexy circle, legs trembling.

"Yes." I moaned. "Oh yes..."

"Do you want to come on my tits, baby? On my tits?"

"Yes. I want to spray my come all over you..."

"Stand up." she breathed. I did, not questioning, and stepped over to her.

"Oh god yes..." she moaned, and she took her hand from her nipple and placed it over my balls. "Come on my tits, baby..."

Her unexpected touch tipped me over the edge. I gritted my teeth, not taking my eyes from her face, a mask of concentration and arousal, her hair hanging into her face, flushed, hot as hell. My whole body shook as I came like a tidal wave, crying out as my cock launched great loops of my cum all over her tits. It splattered on her neck, chest, and breasts, the chair, the floor. As soon as my load hit her, her back arched and she wailed as she came. Both her hands moved to her chest, massaging in the cum that was there, as her body spasmed with a powerful orgasm, and she called out my name as I collapsed back into the chair.

After a little while, we both recovered. "That was new," she said.

"What was?" I asked.

"A lot of it. The dirty talk. The touching. The cum on me." She paused. "It's never gone that way before."

"Did you enjoy it?"

She smiled. "Wasn't it obvious?"

I smiled back. "Okay then." She took a shower, and then I did, and then she headed back to Mike. We agreed that we'd be doing that again, and as far as the rules...what Mike didn't know wouldn't hurt him.