Backyard MILF Ch. 01

It was a much prettier than average carry bag, and the gun pocket was both hard to even see and obviously really easy to access. I should get one for my mother... if she ever spoke to me again.

Yeah, the idea of being caught had been sexy and thrilling when I'd been watching naked Kristie dancing around, but the reality of being caught was looking more and more life-destroying.

And still, as my understanding of the situation grew more dire, my view just got better.

Kristie's attention was fully on me, her mind racing just as fast as mine, but her attention to herself was on autopilot. All her brain was absently telling her hand was, 'keep the good stuff covered.' She indeed clutched the towel against her chest, and it indeed draped down the front of her body, but when she had shifted how she held it against herself, the towel had shifted too. The top edge now flopped down over her right hand, which was pressed firmly against her left breast. The meant that much of the top of her right tit was now exposed above where her forearm held up the towel. Further, the towel drooped straight down just beyond her covering hand, affording a really considerable crescent of side boob on her left side. And the drape of the towel narrowed as it flowed down her body too. I could see her nakedness from shoulder to white shoe on her left side, and the view of her right was blocked only by her protective arm.

Fuck! Why did she have to be so God Damned hot?

It was a vision that I instantly knew would fill my mind for the rest of my life--throughout its very bleak future. My parents were going to kill me, if they didn't just drop dead first. When this got out, I'd have to move out of the neighborhood instantly. Fuck, my parents would probably have to move out...

"How long have you been watching me?" Kristie asked me flatly. Jesus, she was quivering. I was so fucked.

I was defeated, and there was no use lying anyway. "I came over right as you were finishing your watering," I said. I wanted to hang my head in shame, but my eyes would not let me.

"Not just now," Kristie snapped. "How long have you been watching me? Since you came back home? Before that?"

"No," I replied hastily. "Today... This was the only time. I just..." I trailed off. There were no excuses to offer. One time was bad enough. I felt myself blushing miserably.

"Really?" Kristie asked, cocking a knee and, if possible, improving the view. Her voice was suddenly dripping with contempt. "Your first time and you get a gun pulled on you? You are a shitty Peeing Tom." At least there was a trace of humor in her contempt. It made me somewhat confident, thanks for small favors, that the gun would not be making a return appearance at least.

My brain was racing. She liked Mom and Dad. Maybe she could be convinced to keep this a secret from the rest of the neighbors, so my parents would not have to move. I would, of course, but maybe not them. "Listen," I said hastily, uninterested in defending my Peeping Tom skills, "Mom and Da..."

"Look, Reggie," Kristie interrupted me in a flat voice. "This is how it is going to go. No one is going to hear about this. Nobody. And especially not your mother and father. Clear?"

"I mean, I know that you have to tell... Wait, what?" I blathered on, before interrupting myself. She wasn't going to ruin my life or my parents's?

"It is hard enough being the neighborhood divorcee around here as it is, without adding in everyone talking about what I get up to in my own back yard," she snapped at me. "And there will be especially no tearful confessions of remorse to your parents, do you hear me?"

"You aren't going to tell on me?" I asked, like a stupid, confused, ten year old.

"I do not need your parents finding out," Kristie emphasized again. She held up one finger. "You father, that old goat, would be totally jealous of you, and start plotting how to get a look for himself."

Dad? No! Okay, maybe...

She held up a second finger. "And your mother would totally blame me."

"You?" I asked incredulously. "She is going to kill me!"

"You have clearly avoided any controversy in your love life," Kristie laughed derisively. I certainly had until now... "For mothers, it is always the woman's fault, never her beautiful boy's. I like Colleen, and want her to keep liking me. She won't kill either of us if you keep your mouth fucking shut."

I certainly would, and started by keeping my mouth shut right then. We sort of just stood there, awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

Slowly, Kristie's eyebrow rose mockingly. I realized that I was still openly staring at the vision she presented. Then I realized that our standoff meant that she was looking back at me. I was wearing nothing but my swim trunks, and she could not have missed the massive (well, I wish I could claim it was massive) erection that was tenting the front of those trunks. Somehow, through all the panic of the gun and the near destruction of my life, her body had kept my erection at full bore. I blushed again. I could feel the warmth of it on my cheeks

"So I take it you liked my dance?" she asked dryly.

My dick might have been at full roar, but my eyes were like a deer in the headlights. I didn't answer. Lying would be pointless. Telling the truth would be dangerous. My cock was answering for me anyway.

"I have to admit, it had been along time since I danced like that for anyone besides myself," Kristie mused with a tiny grin. "Even if I didn't know I was performing," she added tartly. She fidgeted for a moment or two. Her feet shifted nervously as she thought. The end result of all her movements were that her feet ended up further apart, exposing more of her legs beyond the towel, and her hand gripped the towel in a tighter bunch, sliding slightly toward her center. The shift exposed even more of the top of the one breast, and more side-boob on the other. The additional exposure was just a sliver here, an inch there, but the fact that the exposure increased at all, instead of disappearing entirely, made my cock twitch.

She saw it of course. She smirked unhappily. "Well, at least it is nice to know I still have it at this age."

I snorted at that. I couldn't help it, it just happened.

Kristie looked sharply at me. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Buttering her up with a little honesty probably wouldn't hurt, and was probably also worth the risk. "Please," I said, misery still very present in my voice, even though I was trying to be mocking. "'Still have it'? You are the hottest woman I've ever seen naked." I winced. I had not needed to add that last word. Another blush.

"What am I going to do with you, Reggie," she mused forebodingly. "I really should not let you get away with this kind of behavior scott-free..." If it meant her not telling my parents, I'd do whatever she made me. I foresaw a couple of months worth of yard work in my future.

Kristie tapped at her teeth with the index finger of her free hand. "Take off the swimsuit," she ordered at last.

What?

"What?" I blurted. This did not compute.

"We will be all out of balance otherwise," she said flatly. "You've seen me. Now I need to see you, or we will never be able to act naturally around each other again."

"You're serious," I said slowly. I was fully aware that this was miles in the opposite direction from the worst way she could be handling this, but to say I was dubious that she was in fact serious was an understatement.

"I am. Do it, you dirty little voyeur," she said harshly. "Turn around and drop those drawers."

"Turn around?" I asked, confused, but turning my back on her anyway. I kept my eyes on her, over my shoulder. I was very uncomfortable letting her... and her purse... out of my sight.

"Like that," Kristie said, the harshness leaving her voice. "I want to see your ass first," she added, her voice now distinctly containing a puckish element. "Drop 'em!"

I fumbled at the drawstring, then pulled the waistband down and free of my erection with some difficulty. I let my trunks fall to the grass and I kicked them free. Now we were both standing there, naked in our sneakers.

"Hmmm..." mused Kristie. I shot another nervous glance over my shoulder at her and realized that she had taken what seemed like an unconscious step toward me and away from the table. "You really should go back to the tighter swimsuits you wore back when you were in college. I used to see them at the big parties. You have a nice ass."

"Thank you?"

"Now turn around." Her voice was flat again.

Nervously, I turned around. My hands wanted to cover myself, but I sensed that would not be approved of. Instead, they just fluttered uncertainly at my side.

"Well, lucky you," Kristie said softly, staring fixedly at my erect cock. I don't know that I'm all that lucky, to be honest. I am circumcised, and when fully erect, as I sure as hell was at that moment, I am a good hair over six inches long. My member is straight as an arrow, if that is what you want, and if I am above average in any respect, I've been told I'm a good bit thicker than other guys. I found myself guessing that Kristie was a girth aficionado.

She nodded. "Nice muscles, but I already knew that. Better ass... and a beer can for a cock." She nodded again. Then she smiled at me, almost sweetly. "So that's your Yelp review, let's hear mine." With that, the hand she held flat against her chest, pinning the towel in place, swung downward to her hip, dangling the towel down beside her suddenly once again fully exposed body.

My mouth was dry. It was one amazing experience to spy on this creature as she danced naked and unaware. It was an entirely different, but still amazing experience to have her deliberately expose herself to me like this. My jaw worked as I drank in the closest, clearest view yet of that perfect form. At last, I managed to croak out, "I already said that you were the most beautiful woman that I'd ever seen."

"Ever seen naked," Kristie added tartly.

I blushed again. I was going to have severe capillary damage if I did much more blushing. I sighed. "Gal Gadot did an event at the University my Senior year. I got to meet her."

"Well, I guess I'm lucky that you didn't see her naked then," she laughed. "Alright, but that still isn't a very detailed review, nice as it is to be second to Wonder Woman. Tell me what you thought of my dance while you crouched over there like a little pervert."

"It was... incredible," I croaked.

"I'm a detail oriented person, Reggie," Kristie said crossly. "I'm going to need a more detailed review than that."

I looked at her, feeling ridiculous standing in front of her, dick waving in the breeze. I opened my mouth and found it hard to remember details of such an amazing event, at least at that moment.

Kristie sensed that I was at a loss for words, and smirked. Then she pointed at the big white chaise by the pool, with its plush blue cushion. "Sit," she ordered. I meekly complied. The chaise had no arms and I slid onto it. It was awkward to sit there, with my feet stretched out on the chaise while she moved to the foot of it. A chaise is designed to lounge on, stiffly sitting on one when every muscle in your body is tensing to flee looks and feels beyond awkward.

"You can review, in detail, both my body and my dancing now," she said. Turning her head slightly, she called out, "Hey Siri, play Closer."

"Now playing Closer, by Nine Inch Nails," said the HomePod sitting by the door. The music began.

The soft, lonely beat that started the song began, and Kristie raised her hands above her head, waving them languidly as she swayed her hips and spun slowly at the foot of the chaise. As the lyrics proper began, her dance brought new meaning to those words, let me tell you.

Kristie began to eye me as she turned. Then, as Trent Reznor's voice sang that immortally romantic line, 'I want to fuck you like an animal', she stopped turning and danced facing me, letting her hands slide downward to caress the outsides of her tits. She still looked at me expectantly, never ceasing the hypnotic undulations. After another line or two, she said, "Well? I'm waiting for those granular reviews, Mister Bad Boy."

This was just unreal. She hadn't shot me. She wasn't ruining my life. Instead, she was showing her body off to me, and dancing better than any stripper I had ever encountered.

Full disclosure. Yes, I have hit the odd skin bar or three. I have college buddies who like Las Vegas (and its strip clubs), and the clubs around my home in South Florida are even better. They aren't a regular thing for me, but I know about strip clubs. Between the music, the privacy, and the dancing before me, I felt like was like I was in a champagne room.

Or so I assume. I'd never had the cash for that experience.

But I had to say something, or she'd get irritated again. Fortunately, I was full of nothing but praise. "Uh, um... well..." I stammered, stumbling mentally while trying to find where to begin. To hell with it. "First of all, you have the most amazing breasts, um, ever." I almost burbled. She smiled archly. "I mean they aren't just magnetic to my eyes," I stumbled on. "They are like superglue."

"Mmmm," Kristie hummed softly. "They were best investment I have ever made."

"Investment?" I asked, curiously.

As she swayed, Kristie lifted those amazing tits and let them drop, bouncing happily. "Boobs on a girl my age don't bounce like this," she said dryly, "without some engineering assistance." She shook them gently at me. My gaze was indeed superglued to them.

"Okay," she went on, as if 'I have fake tits' was a normal part of conversation. At that, she leaned forward and crawled right onto the chaise with me, straddling my outstretched legs! On her hands and knees, she smiled up at me, breasts dangling beneath her. "That's a start on my body. How's my dancing?"

"Unbelievable," I breathed, shivering at how close she was to me. Indeed, the insides of her knees were pressingly lightly against my calves as she swayed above me. "And it just got so much better than it was. Did you take some kind tantric ballet as a kid?"

Kristie laughed and crawled higher, until her face was near mine. The angle now made it difficult to keep my eyes on her tits, but the view down her straight and smooth back to her swaying ass was an utterly awesome substitute. "I'm going to tell you something, since we are now in a pact of silence... something no one in this neighborhood knows. I give thanks regularly that I never even told that fuckwit Willie.."

I just stared at her delicate features as she smiled slyly, inches from my face.

"Like I said, these were an investment," Kristie said, straightening up on her knees astraddle my legs, and caressing her breasts. "Tips get so much better for a stripper with a fifteen grand set like these."

"You are a stripper?" I exclaimed, thunderstruck.

"Not any more!" Kristie laughed. "Not since I was younger than you." She shifted and rolled over to sit across my lap, draping an arm around my shoulder. My achingly hard cock was pressed down by her bare thigh. If this was a stripper dance, I had better obey the rules, I thought. I grabbed the sides of the chaise's cushion to keep my hands off her.

"You know I went to Arizona State?" she asked me. I nodded. I'd seen the big banner that she hung during football season. "November of my freshman year, I tested out my spanking new fake ID at a party bar, got just drunk enough to enter their wet teeshirt contest, which I then won," Kristie said, apparently eager to relate a story she seldom had the chance to tell to anyone... and probably never like this. Whatever this was. "I had a pretty good scholarship, but absolutely no spending money to speak of. That big cash prize for the contest was a huge rush, but I burned through it pretty quick," she said, writhing atop me.

Receiving any lap dance was awesome. Getting one from a fox like Kristie multiplied the effect. Getting one while I was actually naked myself made for a next-level experience. "You became the queen of Phoenix wet teeshirt contests?" I asked, gasping for oxygen to clear my addled brain.

"No," she chuckled. "Not enough of them, and I'd not have won them all. No," she went on, sliding off my lap languidly. She moved to straddle me on her knees again, this time right astride my hips. My trembling cock was half a foot directly below her sleek, hairless slit. "No, I did a little discrete research, and by Thanksgiving I had a job at a big name club in town with a reputation for dancers who worked clean and customers who mostly behaved themselves. By Christmas, I had determined several things. First, I enjoyed it. Second, it was going to be profitable."

She stroked her hand down my chest, fingers just barely brushing my skin. I'm mostly hairless, with just a small, dark tangle between my pecs, and she paused her progress to tease at what I had. Then she resumed stroking downward as she talked, coyly jerking her fingers away just before she touched my straining cock.

"Lapdancing was where the real money was," Kristie went on with her memory. "But stage dancing was the real rush, with lots of guys all looking at me. Once I had their attention, I was in total control." She snorted. "A few minutes ago I realized that I'd done one of my favorite stage routines for you, without knowing you were even watching. Even just knowing after the fact that you were watching reminds me how turned on dancing used to make me."

She turned around above me, switching which side of me each leg was on, and she hung momentarily above me as I gazed down her firm, thin but nowhere bony back to that pert, little, perfect ass. Slowly, she lowered herself downward. With her ass hovering just above my engorged member, she paused. I thought she was going to pull away again, but this time she got just a bit closer, then swayed her butt side to side, stroking my cock with it. I could not help but moan quietly.

"Don't get me wrong," Kristie purred, "lap dances could be a turn-on too, if the guy was hot." Her ass kept stroking me as she settled her weight onto me. I moaned again as her tight little cheeks came to rest on each side of my naked cock. With a little wiggle, she lay back fully against my upright chest. Her hips rocked for a bit, stroking my cock with her ass.

She kept rocking on me softly, in time with the music, a softer song now that I didn't recognize. "I also determined by Christmas that while my tits were nice, I'd get more money on stage, and a ton more money in the lap rooms if I upgraded," she resumed her story. Why she felt the need to tell me all this, I wasn't sure, except that I guessed she wanted to tell somebody who had to keep his mouth shut. "A little more research, and I found the best plastic surgeon in the state. I went to visit, and almost shit when I found how much money it took to get the best tits money could buy. Ones with no scars and just the right shape!" She chuckled. "But I wanted them. So I learned to manage my money wisely."

She was sliding her ass along my cock in smooth strokes now. She moved far enough that my tip actually popped up between her legs for an instant, head sliding softly along her hairless, dripping slit. But she, without comment, just lifted her hips up, moved slightly, and resumed sliding me along between her cheeks, not letting my cock get between her legs again.

"The other girls I worked with," she went on, as if my dick had not just caressed her pussy, "were buying themselves cars, jewelry, or expensive clothes. The dumb ones were spending their cash on pot or blow." She wriggled a bit, instead of sliding, while she caressed the breasts we were talking about. My chin was resting her shoulder, and it was a glorious view down her front as her fingers worked. "Meanwhile, I kept driving my old beater of a car, ate on the meal plan, and drank cheap box wine with my friends at school. And I rubbed my ass on as many laps as I could in between homework. By the summer, I had the money I needed."