Buttons

It was a fine Friday afternoon and I had the afternoon off. I was home by twelve thirty and decided to do a few chores around the house. Only minor thing, like tightening the toilet roll holder and putting on a new door handle, but things I'd been putting off. I had all the bits and pieces I required, so why not?

I spent an industrious hour or so, catching up on all those annoying little things. Along the way I gathered up several tools that belonged to Ward, my next-door neighbour. Finished with my own stuff I grabbed Ward's things and wandered next door to leave them for him.

I didn't expect Ward to be home but, on the off-chance that he or Sharon, his wife, were, I banged on the back door. I guess Sharon must have been close to the door because I'd barely finished knocking when she opened it.

"Rory," she greeted me. "What brings you here hammering on the door? A fire, perhaps?"

"Oh, come on," I protested. "All I did was knock politely. I've been doing some stuff at home and found that I had a few of Wards things so I figured to return them."

"If that was a polite knock I'd hate to hear what you considered an urgent one. Bring the tools in. You can dump them on that table over there."

She indicated a small table in the back room.

"Ah, I can take them out to the shed," I offered but Sharon promptly shook her head.

"No, you can't. You know how he gets when someone puts his tools away in the wrong place and you're just the sort of person to deliberately put them in the wrong place. The table will suffice."

I'd probably been insulted but it was true I tended to file things any old how on the principle I could always find it again. Ward, on the other hand, could probably find any of his tools blind-folded, knowing exactly where they all were.

I put the tools on the table and Sharon asked if I'd like a cup of coffee. I assented and followed her into the kitchen. While following her I took out my phone, turned on the camera to video record, and tucked it into my shirt pocket, the lens busy picking up the scene in front of me.

You're probably wondering why I started filming. It's like this. Sharon is twenty three, I think. She's a natural blond with blue eyes and a flawless complexion. She seems to be quite fit and has an excellent figure. Her breasts, by my best guess, were 34C, and very nicely shaped.

How can I know that last for sure? Like I said earlier, it was a fine day, meaning warm and sunny. Sharon was at home and so hadn't bothered with a bra. She was also wearing a blouse that buttoned up the front and her top two buttons were undone, giving a view of a bit more cleavage that I suspect she knew. What I was certain she didn't know was that the two buttons after the one that was done up had popped open, effectively leaving her breasts on display. Not fully, or at all times, but as she moved her breasts would move around and every so often one would pop fully into view, perky nipple on display.

I suppose a gentleman would have mentioned her buttons. I, on the other hand, enjoyed the scenery and made sure my camera was catching it.

We sat and enjoyed the coffee, talking about nothing in particular, although the subject of politics did come up. Normally my politics were at odds with Sharon's but currently we were in full agreement about the stupid decisions being made by Dictator Dan, our beloved Governor. I was also all in favour of the way she took a deep breath when talking about him, outrage in her bearing and her breasts thrust forward. That was one of the occasions when both nipples came out of hiding.

It was also the time that she caught me looking and hurriedly looked down to ensure she was covered. She could see the button that was done up but not below that as her own breasts were in the way. Still, she thoughtfully did up another button, reducing the amount of cleavage, giving me a rather cool look while she did so.

"What is it with men?" she asked. "You see a bit of boob and you can't tear your eyes away."

"It's the curves," I told her. "We see the curves and just naturally think how well they match our hands. It's a case of if we can see it we want to touch it. If women don't want us touching them they should hide them."

"It's our fault that you have no self-control?"

"Not really, but it makes a magnificent excuse. If you blame the victim long enough and loud enough they tend to think it is their fault and we get off free."

"That's just insulting."

"Probably so, but would you really object if I touched what you have on open display?"

"Seeing I don't have anything on open display the point is moot. Ah, that means it doesn't apply and would be disputable if it did."

"Thank you for letting me know, me being rather ignorant," I said with a grin. I rose to my feet and moved around to where she was sitting, indicating that she should stand up. She did so and I took advantage.

"So if the point wasn't moot, would you permit this?" I asked, my hands moving up to where her blouse gaped open, closing over those lovely breasts.

Sharon made a yelping sound and took a hasty step backwards. Unfortunately her chair was still behind her so she found herself sitting rather abruptly, the sudden movement popping open those last two buttons, her breasts now fully on display.

"What the hell?" she gasped, holding the blouse closed in front of her.

"I thought you knew and were deliberately teasing me," I said innocently.

"Knew what?" was the yelled response.

"That all your lower buttons were undone and your lovely breasts were on display. Well, most of them. It was fascinating to what how your nipples would take turns peeping out from behind the blouse, only to scurry into hiding when you moved."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Now, Sharon, do I look like a fool? You have lovely breasts and I thoroughly enjoyed looking at them. How about taking your blouse off so I can see them both at once?"

"You are a fool if you think I'll do any such thing. You're never seeing them again if I have my way."

"Ah, well, I guess it doesn't matter. I'll just have to remember what they looked like. If I need to refresh my memory I'll just look at the video." I tapped the pocket that the phone was in.

"Video?" She sounded slightly hunted.

"Mm. I started it running as soon as I came in. I expect I'll have a fascinating show."

"You delete that. Now!"

"Take off your blouse," I replied.

She blushed and glared at me.

"All right," she said, sounding most put upon. "If I take off my blouse will you delete that video?"

"Deal," I agreed.

She slipped off the blouse and dropped it onto the table. I admired her breasts. They truly were works of art.

"Aphrodite herself would be envious of breasts like those," I told her. "You truly are remarkably lovely."

She blushed slightly. I was interested to see her breasts appear to have swollen slightly. Her nipples had definitely peaked, standing out and waiting (or should that be wanting?) to be touched.

I withdrew my phone and stopped the video running. I then saved it to my library and followed up by deleting it. With a bit of luck my recovery program would find it and restore it, but for now it was gone.

"Done," I said. "I'll show you the phone later and you can check for yourself."

She didn't say anything, merely reached for her blouse.

"Wait a moment," I said quickly.

"Why?"

"I want you to take off your skirt," I said, indicating the wrap around skirt she had on. "Just the skirt. I won't ask you to take anything else off, I swear. It's just that I really want to see you."

"You have got to be joking."

"No. It's the last item I'll ask you to remove. I just want to see you. What's it going to hurt?"

She knew damn well she shouldn't but she was already standing there topless. I could see she was tempted. I didn't try to pressure her, just stood there silently, looking at her with admiration. She sighed, told me I was a rotten animal, and pulled on the tie to her skirt. It fell away and she tossed it onto the table next to her blouse while I admired her naked form, tastefully dressed in a pair of very small panties.

"Very nice," I said softly. "Very nice indeed."

I took a step closer, my hands coming up to cup her breasts once more. My thumbs stroked her nipples then, before she had time to protest at the liberty being taken, I slipped my hands off her breasts, running them slowly down her sides to her waist. At that point I leaned forward and brushed my lips across her breasts, my tongue darting out to touch each nipple in turn. Then I leaned away again, smiling at the flush on her face.

I ran my hands lower, slipping them inside her panties, so as my hands stroked her legs her panties came down, finishing up around her ankles. For her part Sharon had made an odd sound and hastily placed her hands in front of her groin.

"You said you wouldn't make me take my panties down," she hissed at.

"And I didn't. I took them down myself. Now move your hands."

To aid her in this I took her wrists and gently moved her hands away from her body, holding them wide so I had a proper view. I gently eased her back until she was leaning back against the table, with Sharon moving her hands behind her to brace herself.

"Just how far do you think you're going to go?" she demanded.

I simply undid my trousers and pushed them and my undies down, plainly revealing my intentions.

"Oh, come on, Rory," she said. "You surely don't think I'm going to let you use that thing on me?"

For answer I crouched down and slipped her panties off one foot, leaving her legs free to be spread. Standing again I pressed my toe against one ankle, encouraging her legs to part.

"To be honest, yes," I said, my hand now busy rubbing her mound, feeling the heat and dampness there.

"Not going to happen," she stated firmly.

"If you say so," I agreed.

I continued to massage her while she stood (leaned) there, breathing hard. After a while I took her hand and placed it against my erection. Her hand automatically closed around me and then she just held it. I continued what I was doing and after a while I felt her hand sliding along my cock. As far as I was concerned that signalled a win. She was going to yield.

My hand left her mound and came up to caress her breasts.

"Any time you're ready," I told her.

I could hear her give a little indignant gasp, presumably at my presumption. For all that, her hand was wrapped around me and the decision was in her hands and I wasn't pushing her. I could hear her muttering to herself but couldn't quite catch what she was saying. From the tone of her voice and the odd word I did catch I decided I didn't really want to know.

She moved her free hand between her legs and then steered me into place. I could feel her fingers holding her lips apart as she put me where she wanted me. I gave a little push and I felt her lips close over me. Her hands went behind her again, propping her up as she looked down at where I was starting to join with her.

She kept watching until I was fully inside her, then she seemed to give a great gasp. Had she been holding her breath while I went in? If so it was a good thing I didn't linger. I pulled back and returned, finding her pushing to meet me now.

I just took it easily for a while, enjoying the feel of my cock sliding back and forth inside of her. She watched my cock doing its duty for a while, with her quite able to keep up with me. After a little while she closed her eyes, and leaned back, her head thrown back, apparently just savouring the experience as I took her.

I continued on my merry way, trying to draw it out as much as possible. I wasn't just enjoying the sex; I was finding her genuine appreciation for what I was doing just as much of a turn on. She was totally lost to everything but my cock plunging into her and that simple fact just made my cock harder than ever.

Her legs came up off the floor, wrapping around my waist, her bottom wedged firmly against the table as I continued my relentless drive. By this time I was moving faster, slapping home with more vigour, and she was giving small screams every time I did so.

Finally deciding the time was right, based purely on the fact that my balls were going to explode if I didn't finish, I went for broke, driving in hard and willing to shoot the lot. I just started to climax when she screamed, clamped down on me, and did her best to milk me dry.

After we'd both caught our breath she started in on me.

"What the fuck, Rory?" she yelled. "You had no right to do that. How dare you?"

"You can't blame me," I said quickly. "It's more your fault than mine. The way your breasts were giving me sneak peeks of their beauty just combined into an irresistible impulse. I couldn't help myself."

I didn't mention the fact that she'd been willing to strip down to her panties with just a little bit of pressure from me. That would probably have set her right off.

"Um, you wanted to check my phone," I said, producing it.

She snatched it from me and for one moment I thought she was going to break it. Fortunately she was too well mannered for that, contenting herself with making sure there was no video there.

"If you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone I will find you and I will hurt you," she promised.

I held my hands up in denial.

"My lips are sealed. I know nothing. I've forgotten anything happened here."

I paused at that point, and then shook my head.

"Strike that last bit," I told her. "There's no way in the world that I could forget what happened. It'll be a treasured memory, but a private one. I wouldn't cheapen it by talking about it."

She looked slightly mollified at that. A woman does like to think that she's unforgettable where sex is concerned, even if she didn't want the man again.

I took my departure at that point, leaving her to go and get dressed. I didn't mention the fact that I'd accidentally started the video recording again when she handed me back the camera. It would be interesting to see what was on it.

It would be even more interesting to find out if Sharon could be persuaded into a return bout.