Backyard MILF Ch. 04

"Reggie," Kristie said to me. I bemusedly looked back, still trying to figure out simultaneously what she was trying to pull, if or when she had ever spied on me, and whether or not she was going to pull off an escape from this situation. "It is your turn in the kitchen. Why don't you go make me something?" She tapped her chin idly, sliding her arm around Sandy's shoulder. "I'd like some toast. Make me some toast. And Sandy," she asked the girl who looked trapped now under her arm, not quite able to keep from darting scared glances at the expansive sideboob inches from her own chest, "would you like some toast too?" Kristie looked at me hard. "Two slices of toast, lots of butter. And you know how you should make them."

Really? Wait... REALLY?!? The look in Kristie's eyes told me 'really.' This was the only way out.

I stood up and turned toward the backdoor. "I need the camera," said Kristie, genuine merriment creeping into her voice, alongside the still carefully concealed fear. This could still go very badly if Sandy bolted. Numbly, I handed the SLR to her.

I stepped into her home and out of sight from any back windows to have a few seconds of total panic, but I got ahold of myself quickly. If this was Kristie's play, then so be it. She seemed to have some plan--batshit crazy, but a plan. I had been, and still was, clueless of what to do about our most narc-tastic of neighbors.

I took a breath and turned to the kitchen.

Wait...

'Really.'

I tugged my shirt off over my head, and dropped trou. For a night like this, I had obviously omitted underwear. Standing there, naked in my sneakers, I had another problem. I might be terrified and embarrassed, but my cock was apparently not taking calls from my brain, and it was tumescent as a harvest moon.

Well... here we go.

I walked back into the kitchen, pretending to be alone and unobserved, hard dick waving its way through the door ahead of me. I rummaged in the cabinets for bread, and filled the toaster. Pushing down the button, I realized that not only was the situation not making my dick relax, I was getting a pretty good thrill at being watched myself. If our world did not implode this evening, I might ask to try this again... without the hot little tattletale to contend with.

Not quite sure what to do with myself while the bread toasted, I did what I would have hoped Kirstie would have done: put on a show? I stretched my arms up over my head and leaned from one side to the other. I almost froze when I heard whispering behind me from the window. Oh boy.

Rather than 'discovering them', I just turned around toward them, and kept stretching, this time with Fat Fred and the Fuzzballs pointing right at the women. I let it bob around a bit excessively.

'Really', meant 'really'. If this was the plan, it was't going to fail because I couldn't embarrass Sandy.

Kristie has a lot of chrome and polished steel in her kitchen and I finally found a surface that gave me a blurry reflection of the window where I had been peeping earlier. The first thing I saw was the round outline of the camera lens. Thank God, Sandy wasn't freaking out about that. In fact, she wasn't freaking out about anything, which was almost too much to have hoped for.

Holy shit! The head behind that camera had dark hair! Kristie had given my camera to Sandy, and it was she who was taking pictures! I did jump at that realization. My dick jumped along with me, of course. I heard the lens bump softly against the sill...

Sandy Hammond was watching me parade around naked in someone else's kitchen. Sandy Hammond, the little twerp who had busted me drinking beer--whom I had almost busted for buying the same a few days earlier. The twerp who had just busted me again, but was sure as hell not little any more. Were narcs worse if they were painfully hot? My dick did not care. I swore it was getting harder.

I started doing a few of the basic standing yoga poses I had learned using the WiiFit my parents bought and then abandoned back when I was in high school. The camera lens did not move from me.

The toaster popped up, and I almost hated to turn away from my watchers. I did not care if Kristie and I had to move to Borneo to get away from the shame, I would fuck her hard the whole way there. I buttered the toast, like it was some magical culinary ritual, and turned with the slices toward the window. Sandy instinctively tried to shy away from the window, but Kristine behind her held her in place. I jumped, eyes wide.

"Oh shit," I grunted hunching down to cover my cock. I made sure to do so unsuccessfully. The point was still to put on a show, and if in doing so, I suggested that my cock was too big to conceal, so much the better. "You!" I hissed. I straightened, my 'anger' overcoming my modesty and I strode back outside.

Ignoring Kristie, I looked angrily at Sandy. "Now I can't even have any privacy indoors in the neighborhood from little girls like you," I said crisply. "I'll bet there are pictures, naked pictures of me on that camera. Give it here!"

I stuck out my hand for my camera, and Sandy clearly did not want to give it up. But it was my camera. I took it from her and fired up the review function.

Wow. Not bad.

As I looked, I held out my hand idly and in a normal voice said, "Toast, anybody?"

Kristie took a slice, and almost in a daze, Sandy took another. I had the last one. Fuck, it was kind of hot, looking at 'surreptitious' pictures of myself.

"Not bad toast, actually," Kristie said, polishing hers off. "Now see, Sandy? It is just a game. You really shouldn't be concerned about it."

"I... yeah, I guess," Sandy said, her toast uneaten.

"I am hurt," I said to Sandy mockingly. "Isn't my toast good enough for you?"

I couldn't believe I was opening my mouth and piling on the pressure, but I was pretty sure at this point that we were going to get away this. Sandy had done far too much to squeal. It was going to be nuclear hot once we sent her home now. I could barely contain myself from drinking in Kristie.

"Now it is your turn," Kristie said to Sandy who had almost tentatively taken a bite of the toast.

"My turn?"

"Her turn?"

"Don't you want to try?" Kristine asked her while shooting me a quelling look. "Look at how excited being spied on got Reggie," she said, jerking her thumb in the direction of my extravagant erection. Sandy stared. Hard. And then she almost unwillingly nodded her head.

"Go make the three of us Vodka Martinis," Kristine said, pointing to the kitchen.

"Martinis?!? I don't know how," Sandy said, apparently clinging to the cocktail question to keep from dealing with a decision about this strange 'game.'

"You don't? High time you learned," Kristie said briskly. "There is a little measuring cup by the cocktail shaker on the counter beside the refrigerator. The vodka is overhead, with the glasses. Put six ounces in the shaker, and fill it with ice. Cap it and shake it really hard, really long." She paused. "The shaking part should really be a big part of the show, Sandy," she added softly.

Sandy looked at her like a scared animal, who had no options. She could have walked away any time. Part of me wanted to encourage her to do so. The engorged reproductive organ part of me very much wanted her to act as if she indeed had no choice.

Almost in a trance, she walked into the kitchen.

As she entered, Kristine called softly, "Hey Siri, play In Da Club playlist."

She and I knelt by the window as Sandy walked into the kitchen as Girls, Girls, Girls, the most obvious stripper song in history started playing. She looked at the HomePod on the counter in the kitchen like it was a rabid dog, and trembled. But holy shit, she started dance a little!

"Oh yeah," I heard Kristie mutter. I just knelt by the window fingers nervelessly holding my camera.

Sandy did not have a very clear idea of how to dance like a stripper, but she did try. And she had certainly looked at enough of the right music videos to have some idea. She swayed her hips, and undulated her sweet little bod. Come to think of it, she danced okay. I was certainly going to give it five stars if she kept it up.

What she did not know how to do was strip. She picked at her clothes awkwardly, both unsure how she should shed them, and more to the point, whether she should shed them to begin with. But she was revved hopelessly, and I could see her determination to 'play the game' hardening her eyes. I knew the look. The little blouse she wore went up and over her head, twirled in her hand and, flew to the kitchen table. She wore the cutest shiny blue bra, with just a touch of lace outline the cups. Her bouncy handfuls bounded in the cups of the bra, threatening to leap out over the top as she danced around. She turned away from us as she reached back for the strap behind her, adding just a bit of tease

Good instincts, there! I felt Kristie elbow me, and I realized that I was not using the camera. If pictures didn't keep her quiet later, nothing would. I lifted the lens and took a shot, just as she dropped the bra and turned back around. At that moment, 'Rockin' in Atlanta at Tattletales,' sang out of the music.

"Nice..." I could not help but hiss quietly, using the zoom liberally.

"Oh yeah," Kristie said beside me. I felt, rather than saw her shake her head. "Damn, this girl is too young for me..." she murmured

"For you?" I snorted back. "She is too young for me!" I stopped taking pictures for a moment in shock. "Wait, for you?" I looked at her.

"Well, I'm hoping that she can be too young for both of us, aren't you?" Kristie grinned, not taking her eyes from Sandy.

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

"Take pictures!" She hissed. "And too young for you or no, if we can get her to wet this magnificent thing," she whispered, brushing my cock briefly, "we will be safe for sure."

Sandy had summoned the courage to push down her skirt, exposing a pair of remarkably utilitarian undies. Dancing topless in her neighbor's kitchen in those had clearly not been her plan... But dance she did, becoming more into it as she went. Interestingly, she had started out nervously and reluctantly not looking toward the windows, but now she was acting as if she was happy not to. Boring panties or no, Sandy was fucking hot.

"Think you could fall on that grenade, soldier?" Kristie giggled. Her tension was gone now. This was now about fun.

"First of all, what the fuck?" I whispered, camera still working. "And second, I distinctly remembering you dismissing the idea of a threesome three goddamned days ago!"

"I dismissed the idea of a threesome with my co-worker! What are you, an idiot?" She snorted. You Shook Me All Night Long came on next. Sandy seems to realize that her panties were an embarrassment. It made her seem to be all the more accepting of pushing them off, so I was not complaining. Here's to boring panties!

"You really think you can get her to play with me? With both of us?" I asked.

"I'd say she already is playing," Kristie said. "The question is how far she'll go. I'm pretty sure you are getting lucky tonight. We will see if I will manage it too," she added softly.

There reallywere depths to Krisite I had not plumbed... "Well, I am your faithful wingman in this," I said, smiling as I took pictures of the cutest little bush emerging from the panties. "I will back your every play."

"My hero," Kristie chuckled.

You have not lived the voyeur's Life of Riley until you have observed a naked nineteen-year-old girl with a narrow little waist and a bouncy round booty twerkingwith her hands on her knees to You Shook Me All Night Long. Fortunately, lest my cock explode from over-inflation, Sandy remembered the cocktails. I relaxed a fraction, but then suddenly, Kristie let her hand snake out and gently wrap around said sorely swollen member.

If this worked, I was going to seriously revise my opinion of snitches... especially when they were hot, and not bad people otherwise.

Sandy walked to the counter and picked up the shaker, examining how it worked. She shrugged and opened the cabinet to get out the big white bottle of vodka. Looking at the little measuring cup, she shrugged and just poured a bunch of vodka into the shaker. Kristie and I looked at each other and shook our heads. These were going be big Martinis. She added ice and started shaking it, turning around toward as she did so, and trying to keep time with Hot For Teacher. She held the shaker straight up and down and shook it violently, like it was one of those ShakeWeight things.

It is an absolutely idiotic-looking way to shake drinks, but when you are a nineteen-year-old, naked girl, with generous, bouncy, upturned and pointy tits, you can carry off the look, let me tell you. I switched to video on the camera.

Yes. Yes, I did. I'm not ashamed of anything, dammit.

My camera has a slow-motion function, and I had the presence of mind to change to that before Sandy finished her mixing. Those perky tits wobbled up and down swiftly, changing shape enchantingly as they bounced. Her nipples were surprisingly brown, unsurprisingly hard, and surrounded by a crown of lighter brown aureole that puffed out lightly themselves in her excitement. Watching this is slow-mo later was going to be epic...

She shook the drinks for far too long, but I could hardly complain about that either. Finally, as the song wound down and David Lee Roth warbled, "I think of all the education that I've missed, But then my homework was never quite like this!" Sandy turned and reached up for three martini glasses.

I bit my lip and mumbled, "That ass..."

Wait, it was Kristie who said that, not me.

Sandy fumbled with the shaker, but got the top off. She strained the vodka into three glasses, sort of evenly. The song ended and she called out, "Hey Siri, pause." Then she braced her hands on the counter and hung her head for a moment. That bouncy round ass shook just a little.

"I know you are out there, looking at me. You might as well come in and have a drink," she said, turning her head slightly to look at us out of the corner of her eye. We looked at each other and shrugged. We rose together and walked inside.

She was playing the game in earnest now. Making her own contributions.

Fuck yeah, I was getting laid for sure. Probably.

"How'd I do?" Sandy asked Kristie, ignoring my opinion, which was making itself known between my legs.

"I don't know," Kristie said, deliberately misunderstanding. "Give me a glass and I'll tell you."

Sandy jumped, and handed her a Martini unsteadily. I leaned past her, coming close but not touching, to take another. We both raised out glasses toward her and waited.

Sandy looked uncertain, taking the third glass. "I'm not old enough to drink," she said.

"Really?" Kristie said, looking up and down her naked, delicious body in the middle of the kitchen. "Being old enough to drink is your line to not cross?"

"To games," I said, raising my glass.

Kristie raised hers as well, and Sandy tremulously picked up the third. I knocked mine back in two swallows. Kristie downed hers in three.

Sandy just shot hers down in one gulp... then gasped like she had just doused herself with rocket fuel. Her eyes watered and she coughed. Overall, I thought she handled it pretty well.

"Now... now what?" Sandy asked timidly, as if she had some ideas, and was afraid she ought not to have them. The fact that she wasn't running away from those ideas seemed... auspicious.

We all stood there though, all hesitant.

I looked at Sandy, standing there in her Nikes and nothing else. I stood in the same group, in nothing but my Converses. And there was Kristie, in her apron and... wow, how had I missed the high heels?

"I don't know, Sandy," I said carefully, "but to start with, I'd say Kristie is over-dressed. Want to help me with that?"

Sandy at that moment had finally let her eyes rest solidly on my cock, and she looked to be having trouble dealing with it being out in the open right in front of her. The chance for a distraction seemed tailor-made for her equilibrium.

Then she looked at Kristie in that apron, luscious boobs almost hanging out both sides, and she was all confused again.

Clearly, she knew how to handle naked me, in a manner of speaking at least. Being naked with Kristie was... I wondered if it was exhilarating, or terrifying.

I was pretty sure that Kristie was hoping for both, which was a surprise in and of itself to me. I know I had teased her about Patrice, and she had taken it quite equanimously, but I had not seen her drooling over a teenaged girl coming.

Kristie was suddenly being very quiet. I think she recognized a tipping point and thought it best that the somehow non-threatening male take the lead.

"Here," I said with excitement and good humor in my voice. "You loosen the bow behind her back and I'll take it off over her head. I say we don't give her the option!"

I calmly reached up and touched the neck band of the apron, looking at her. Sandy jumped, flushed, and grinned a moment, a look of relief flitting across her face at taking some tiny measure of control back from the older woman. Then she slid her hand around behind Kristie, and tugged at the bow. The apron went slack. "Take a look," I said, grinning even more broadly. I waited a beat, which was all it took for Sandy to give in to her curiosity and step beside me. I lifted the apron over Kristie's head and tossed it away. Now we were all naked in our shoes.

Sandy looked a little intimidated again. I didn't blame her. Kristie naked is intimidating, especially if you only had ever seen her in her stylish but shapeless everyday wardrobe.

Sandy had nothing to be ashamed about next to any woman, and had the amazingly taut and smooth skin that still growing into her adult body provided. She was gorgeous, too. But Kristie was both naturally lovely and... well-engineered.

Then she took a breath. We were all naked now, and it seemed to let her feel like she was on a more even footing with Kristie.

"And now?" Sandy asked again, actually smiling.

"What did you call him earlier? A dirty little perv?" Kristie shrugged. "You caught him, red-handed, spying on you. He is in your power. Make him do what you want."

Sandy looked at me... well, she looked at my cock mostly. She seemed unwilling to take a dominant role. "But... he 'caught' me spying on him first. She looked at me expectantly, her eyes filled with trepidation, mixed with expectation.

Well then.

I, at least, had a good role-model in Kristie for how to proceed, I hoped.

"That's right, isn't it?" I said, putting iron in my voice. "You did spy on me like some kind of voyeur, didn't you? I think you even took pictures of me, of my nakedness, didn't you? Didn't you?" I snapped, when she did not immediately respond.

"I did," Sandy said.

"Did you like it?"

Sandy just looked down, probably at my cock, and nodded.

"I'll just bet you did, you dirty girl," I snapped. "I'll bet you will remember it. I'll bet you want to keep those pictures too, don't you?"

"But it wasn't... wait, really?" Sandy asked, suddenly taken with the idea of having those pictures that she had taken.

Oh yeah.

"Maybe I'll let you keep the ones you took," I said. "But think about how you are such a dirty girl, spying on me like that, with your dirty thoughts. Show me how dirty you are, and you can have the pictures."

Kristie was just watching the whole thing play out, standing behind Sandy, half crowding her, half supporting her.

"I... I can be dirty," Sandy said. Then she smiled a little. "I'm feeling really dirty right now. With that, she pushed me softly backward, pressing my ass against the counter edge. She leaned forward and kissed the center of my chest, then moved downward, kissing my centerline as she dropped.