Ideal Suburbia Ch. 10

This is a series of stories that are a sort of sequel to two text-adventure games. Each installment is a complete story on its own, but for a full understanding, the reader may want to start with Chapter 1.

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I was out to lunch with a couple of co-workers; Steve was in Sales with me, and Patrice was a sweet older woman in Fulfillment. Over the last several weeks, I had encouraged both of them, and many other CKE employees, to try out working with my personal trainer Courtney, and I wanted to see how both of them were doing. Courtney's business was struggling, and I had taken it upon myself to lead a word of mouth campaign. As we looked around for our server, who had of course disappeared right when we wanted our checks, I asked about their progress.

"Oh man!" moaned Steve. "I quit, dude. That woman is way too much. I mean, she is nice to look at," that was an understatement, "but she yells all the time. I had to give up." I reflected that Courtney only actually yells when you are not giving your all. And, looking at Steve's pleasant but mildly pudgy visage, I could guess that giving his all was probably not in his wheel-house.

"I've lost ten pounds," Patrice said quietly. "And I warm up on four on the treadmill now." She went on to detail how much more weight she was lifting as well. Aside from the weight, her gains so far were modest, but for a woman like her, who was thick in too many of the wrong places, as well as the right, they clearly made her feel a lot better about herself.

"When she yells at you, Steve," Patrice said softly, "she is just telling you that your goals are in reach, just work a little harder."

"What I was hearing when she yelled like that," replied Steve, "was punch the fuck out of this nightmare and swing by Dunkin' Doughnuts."

Patrice and I shared a look.

Shortly thereafter, I took a trip to San Francisco to visit my big client out there. I had been grumpy to find a few things out of order with how they were being cared for and had missed my afternoon flight back. I instead took the red-eye overnight and went straight to the office. After I turned in my reports, and lodged a few complaints, the fact that everyone I spoke to had two faces that overlapped each other told me I needed to take the afternoon off and rest. Courtney was going to have the opportunity to yell at me the next day, and I would need the energy.

As I turned into the cul de sac where I lived, I glanced at my nextdoor neighbor's house, and wondered if it was time to test if my little local Rumor Mill campaign had had the effect I wanted yet or not. Why not? There was noting to lose, and my fatigue seemed to drop away at my anticipation.

Changing into casual clothes, I went into my back yard and quietly climbed the huge oak against the fence between our properties. Though it was still the middle of the afternoon, the multiple laptops on which my neighbor usually worked all day were shut down and stacked beside her favorite chaise. My neighbor Linda was actually swimming in her pool, which I had not thought really happened that much. The view from the tree got better when she started to walk out of the pool. Today she wore a most extraordinary swimsuit that I had not observed before. (I really did not spend a lot of time in this tree watching her. Really. But almost every single time that I had observed her, she was wearing, or not wearing, something different.) That day, it was a mismatched bikini, simultaneously modest and wildly daring. The bottom was a small pair of white boy shorts with a wide belt of matching fabric and a large, non-functional silver buckle. The top... the top was also white. It was solid under her right arm, but then split into three strips to wrap around her. The top was about an inch wide and swept up diagonally to the base of her neck, then back around and across her back. The bottom ran horizontally around her torso, well below her breasts. The middle band provided the only actual coverage, such as it was. It ran straight around her breasts, and was barely wide enough to conceal her dark aureoles. The rich curves of her perfectly engineered breasts were utterly exposed, both above and below the center band of fabric.

As she left the pool and the water cascaded off her lean but sumptuous curves, I could not escape the impression that it did so unnaturally slowly, as if even the water itself was reluctant to release its hold on this vision. Further, I could make out that the fabric of her top was just barely translucent when wet. I could clearly discern the shadows of her delicious nipples. Linda walked idly, humming to herself, toward her chaise, wringing out her long, jet black hair. Even as I watched her sleek round ass while she walked, I began to gently step on the branches of my tree that overhang her yard. She picked up a huge towel and began to rub herself vigorously, and I stepped on the branches harder.

By the time Linda finished toweling off and turned around, the agitation of the branches has dropped a host of leaves into her yard, and especially into her pool. Linda had a very definite complex about her pool not being crystal clear.

"Fucking goddamn leaves!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot hard. It sent amazing ripples through her amazing breasts, jiggling them briefly in the tenuous containment of that extraordinary top. She seized her phone, and looked it it, flipping back and forth between apps. A smile grew on her face for a moment and she actually ran a fingertip along the middle band of her bikini top to correct some slippage from her earlier stomp. But then she looked up at the leaves all over the surface of the pool and she scowled again. She dialed a number on her phone.

"Hello? Denise? It's Linda Tarlington. Yes, hi! How's the boy? Good!" she said, her voice that of someone who regularly cultivates a useful contact.

"Denise, my pool is full of the darned leaves again. Yes, already. I need Danny to come out ASAP. When can you schedule him?" There was a pause and Linda actually pulled her phone away from her ear and glared at it. "What?!? What do you mean fully booked? From now until our next regular cleaning? What the hell, did you guys run a new ad campaign or something?

"Never mind. I WANT these leaves out of my pool. Cassie? No. No way," Linda grumped into the phone angrily. She seemed to catch herself and her better nature made her seem to change what she was going to say. "Denise, I don't want you to think Cassie does a bad job. She's a nice girl, and cute. Have her work weekends when the husbands are home. They'll love her. Ha! That's why she doesn't want to work weekends? I guess she's smart, too. But Denise, she takes forever and she will not shut up while she works. No. I'll just try to do it myself. Please do put me on stand by for Danny."

Linda tossed the phone onto her chaise and started to putter around the pool. I knew what she always did with Danny after he cleaned her pool, and smiled at the fact that she was now irritated about the leaves and at the same time frustrated about the absence of Danny. What I did not understand was how could she be so bad at simply getting leaves out of the water? She sucked at it, but wanted it done, and was frustrated at the fact that it was suddenly her problem. "Goddamn leaves!" she practically shouted.

I slipped down out of the tree. It looked as it my little plan spreading the (completely true) rumor that Glistening Waters Pool Service had a young greek god of a pool boy, named Danny, who was hung like a horse was working. Every lonely housewife for three towns around, eager to at least get a look at him while he cleaned their pools, had scheduled with Glistening Waters. Which meant he was not there at a moment's notice to clean Linda's pool and be very handsomely rewarded.

I slipped into my room and donned one of my tighter bathing suits, the light blue one that showed off, even at "rest", my own far better than average endowment. I threw on a white camp shirt and buttoned it half way, finishing off my "just got up from my own poolside" look with a pair of Key West Wingtips (flip flops).

I opened my front door and went next door to ring the bell.

It took nearly a minute before Linda opened the door. She had shrugged on a pretty, but sadly opaque, green pool robe before coming to the door. "Can I help you?"

I smiled, giving my name. "I'm your next-door neighbor. I'm really sorry that I've lived here so long and haven't introduced myself yet, but I'm always at work, it feels like. Look, I was taking the day off by my own pool and I could not help hearing you complain about the leaves. I just wanted to apologize."

"Apologize? Why?" asked Linda, giving me a gratifying once-over with her eyes.

"I'm sure it is my oak tree that is dropping all the leaves in your pool. Every mild breeze, it is dropping leaves in mine!"

Linda actually laughed a little. (A very little) "Please don't worry. That tree is beautiful, it throws great shade in the mornings, and I think it is one of the few old trees that survived this neighborhood being built. I think it raises both our property values."

"Still, I feel bad," I said, morosely. "I don't know if you have a pool service, but I do the work on my pool myself. The least I can do today is clean it up for you! I'd really like to help."

"Well, I really don't want to make you feel like you owe it to me," replied Linda, giving me another casual gaze. "But I really am picky about my pool, and my regular service is way backed up all of a sudden. "Would you?"

I smiled and followed her through the house. The furniture and decor were far more rich and sumptuous than mine. In fact, her furnishings were far more expensive and exclusive than made sense for any house in this modest upper-middle class neighborhood. At least all the excess material wealth hidden inside this house was in good taste. We went out to her back yard and I looked skeptically at the pool. "Wow! That is a lot. I'm glad I'm still dressed from my swim earlier. I'll have to get in the water to clean all this." I smiled cheerily and grabbed the tools to get started.

I slid my camp shirt off and set it on table, then paused to stretch in the sun. Linda looked on while I started, standing there with her arms around herself. I kept working, but in a minute or two, she shrugged and slid her robe back off and reclined on her chaise, a fucking vision in that bikini. I let myself notice, and smiled up at the clear blue sky. "It's a great day to get some sun, isn't it?" I asked cheerily, pausing to bend my body backward and catch some warmth on my chest.

With that, I stepped down into the water. I bobbed up and down as I worked, reaching the leaves that had already sunk, or were in the very center of the pool. I wiped my brow and stepped out of the pool, the fabric of my already tight trunks clinging to me. "I hate to ask," I said apologetically, "but can I get a glass of water? It is ridiculous to feel dehydrated when you are standing up to your chest in a pool."

"Of course," she replied, and slid to her feet and into the house. Oh yes. She was swaying that fantastic ass a bit more than necessary as she walked. Was it conscious or unconscious? Which would be better for me right now?

She returned with a polycarbonate tumbler of cold water for me. I gulped it down greedily (I really was thirsty), and let some of the water escape my lips, dribbling off my chin and down my chest. She stood watching as I drank. I handed her the empty glass and returned to work.

Behind me, I heard her say, "Listen, I hope you don't mind, but I've been trying to get rid of some tan lines. Uh, DO you mind?"

I let her see me freeze for just a moment, then I kept working, casually replying, "No skin off my nose! It's your back yard. Isn't that why we have these high walls?" I moved so I could obviously see her out of the corner of my eye, watching as she extricated her spectacular body from that crazy top, then slid the shorts down her legs so slowly it had to be a show. I felt some stirrings in my own swimsuit. This woman had a very specific kink, when it came to leaves in her pool, and I was very glad to see that it apparently might not be specific to Danny....

As I worked my way around the edge of the pool, she came fully into my field of view. I could not in a million years have NOT taken a look, so I took a lot of them. It was my intent to be observed surreptitiously checking her out, but it was hard not to outright gawp at her in obvious fashion.

Linda lay on her chaise like a fucking work of art more spectacular than any of the expensive pieces inside her house. She wore nothing but a pair of dark sunglasses, which I suspected... hoped, were there to let her stare openly at me without being obvious. Looking at those amazing, upward-thrusting tits made it damned hard to not just drop the pool net and bite my fingers. Meanwhile, the front of my swim trunks was coming under increasing strain, and had I wanted to hide it, I could not have. I did make a token effort at modesty though, to keep up appearances.

At last, the pool was clean, and I went to put away the tools. "Thank you so much," Linda said enthusiastically. "I'm such a freak about that pool," she smiled up at me as I approached her to grab my shirt. She turned toward me to sit on the side of her chaise and leaned forward, letting her breasts dangle enticingly. Not wanting now to hide it, I watched her move approvingly. "You've saved my sanity," she went on. "I don't suppose there is any way I could... thank you properly?" Her hand reached out and actually stroked up and down my thigh.

"I, uh, I mean, you don't need to thank me. I volunteered," I stammered, then went on hastily as she looked sharply at me, "but it seems like we can figure out a good way together!" I was not hiding my lustful stares now at all, and my cock was straining uncomfortably now, caught up in the clingy wet fabric of my trunks.

She smiled. "I've got a good idea to start," she cooed in her annoyingly high-pitched voice. Well, it would be annoying under other circumstances. Right now, she was completely incapable of being annoying in any way.

Her hand on my thigh slid up and over the bulge in my suit. She tugged the waistband out and reached in with her other hand. She helped my eager cock spring free and examined it approvingly for a moment. Then she slid my swimsuit off my ass and to the ground, immediately returning her touch to my eager penis. "Oh, this is very nice," she breathed. In a moment, her tongue was sliding up my shaft, dodging between her cradling fingers and up to the head. I groaned a quiet thanks as she slowly teased my glans with her tongue. I was shuddering soon, from just this initial teasing, and then she wrapped her lips around me.

I could not help but thrust myself deeper in past her lips, but I was careful to avoid choking her. Her mouth curled as if it would have been smiling had it not been so full, and she accepted my advances expertly. Between her expert skills and my numerous fantasies about this chance, I did not last long. I felt delirious pressure build inside me, and she sensed it simultaneously, withdrawing me from her mouth and pumping my shaft gently but eagerly. She did not stop kissing the tip though, and in a moment I gurgled happily. My hips lurched forward toward her and I felt a huge surge up from my groin and along my cock to burst free in a long spurt of white jizz. Much of my cum found its way directly into her mouth, but I covered her face, lips and tongue with the sticky flood as well.

Linda murmured her approval of my offering, licked her lips clean, then wiped her face with one hand. Her other never left my barely softening cock, as if she wanted to signal that she was not done with it.

I sank down to sit next to her on the chaise and kissed her. She responded deeply, tongue probing against mine, and I could not help but taste my own recent deposit. I lifted a hand and grasped one of those amazing breasts at last. She quivered at my touch. I then bent to suckle upon that breast and she pressed it against my face. With my mouth now enjoying her perfect mounds, my hand wandered down lower to her pussy, tickling at the close-cropped, perfectly groomed landing strip she bore. Impatiently, my fingers slipped lower between her legs and began to explore her pussy. Her breathing intensified as my tongue probed and curled around an achingly pert nipple and my hand caressed and teased between her thighs.

As I brought her higher and higher, her one hand never left my cock, her caress never letting it get fully soft. But soon, she was squirming harder and harder as my fingers caressed and massaged her clit. I could feel a shriek or moan rising inside her and I released her nipple and planted my lips on hers. She bucked hard against my hand, her whole body spasming, and my mouth on hers kept her ecstatic moan low enough to not disturb the neighbors.

She collapsed back across the chaise and her fabulous rack heaved as she tried to recover her breath. But her hand still did not leave my cock, which had recovered in record time. I leaned over her gently stroking and admiring her perfect breasts.

"You like them, don't you?" she murmured as I gave her breast my idle attention.

"They're perfect," I replied, circling a nipple with my fingertip.

"They should be," she murmured happily. "They cost me enough money. $15,000, plus the trip to Bel Air. But now they are my superpower."

"You sell yourself short!" I replied, letting my hand drift down to tease at her navel. Her firm, flat belly undulated involuntarily at my touch. "The rest of you is just as fabulous."

"Yes, but the rest requires a lot more fucking maintenance to keep in shape," she purred, stretching out sinuously below me for my enjoyment. "I run miles every day."

"Remind me," I murmured, in between the kisses I was again planting on the smooth flesh of her breasts, "to tell you some other time about my personal trainer." More kisses, and a few licks. "She will beat your ass up, but if you can take it, she's worth the challenge..."

Her hand had never left my cock and by now she had returned it to its full, eager hardness. I pushed up and straddled her body, unable to restrain myself. I leaned forward and pressed my shaft down between her perfectly crafted beasts, then rubbed it up and around their swelling curves. I looked down at her and begged in a whisper, "Please."

Linda laughed and clasped her breasts, pressing them together around me. I could not restrain myself from beginning to thrust, though I held back my pace severely, wanting to make this particular experience last. Her flesh was slick with tanning butter and I slid between her tits with glorious ease. "Of course," she said, shifting her grip on her breasts to best encase my probing member.

"When I figured out my husband liked doing this with a couple of women, I bought the enhancements so he could do it with me too."

That sentence actually made me pause. Given how good this felt, I would not have thought I could stop for anything. But this? "You have a husband who cheats? On you?!?" I blurted incredulously, ignoring the fact that she was currently cheating with me.

She just laughed, rubbing her breasts along my shaft, forcing me to resume thrusting as my mind continued to boggle. "Of course he doesn't cheat on me, any more than I cheat on him. We just discovered very early on that neither of us was satisfied with just one person. Faster please. I love this too, you know," she instructed parenthetically. "We don't actually talk openly to each other about our Others much, but our favorite way to flirt is to talk AROUND the subject, especially when someone else has taught one of us something new."

"Have... I... taught you... anything... new?" I asked, my thrusts no longer restrained. I was in Heaven. A very weird Heaven to be sure, but the Good Place nonetheless.