Pixie in a Sundress

This is my fifth story of Pixie and the boys she needs.

* * *

The night had turned sultry—at least there by the pool. Tiki torches lit the poolside with a flickering golden light, and lamps below the water silhouetted the few who chose to get in and cool off. It was getting late for Pixie, but she stayed to watch the young people play their games.

Tamara sat with Joan on the side of the pool, and they kicked their feet gently so they didn't splash. Each of them had a boy at her side and another was treading water in front of them.

"Another margarita?" Steve asked. It was his party, and he knew he could get Pixie drunk. She only had to walk across the street to get home. For Steve, it was also another opportunity to look at Pixie, because Karen was at the front door seeing guests off.

"Oh, why not?" Pixie said. She handed Steve her empty glass and, without making herself obvious, she posed to let him look. She'd dipped in the pool then pulled a thin, white tube dress over her swimsuit. It clung to her body and did little to hide what was underneath. She wore the bikini version of the one-piece that his daughter wore—same designer, same fabric, same color. Pixie and Tamara chose their swimsuits together just for the party.

Pixie found Paul Russo watching while Steve set to work on her drink, but Paul jerked his eyes away as soon as Pixie caught him.

"Here ya go," Steve said.

"You make the best margaritas." Pixie lifted the glass from Steve's hand and walked to the poolside where Paul would have to turn if he wanted to keep watching. Pixie was twenty years older than Paul, but her fine smile lines were all that gave her away, and smile lines weren't what Paul was looking at. She could almost feel his eyes trace the curve of her butt.

She stepped close to Paul, who pretended he was watching the girls. "Pretty, aren't they?" she asked.

Paul startled and asked, "Am I being obvious?" He was tall enough to look straight over Pixie's blond head, so it was easy to tell where his eyes went. His gaze searched her face, traveled down the lines of her neck, and flirted with her cleavage. "You met Tammy at the mall the other day," he said.

Pixie lifted her well-engineered breasts almost without thinking. "You didn't stay for introductions," she said and extended her hand. "I'm Pixie Tyler. I live across the street. Tamara tells me that you're my neighbor across the alley."

She was pleased that Paul remembered her, pleased by the way his eyes drifted down, and pleased again when he blushed. "If you live across the street from here," Paul said, "then I live across the alley and a few houses away," He gestured in the direction he meant, then remember to shake Pixie's hand. "I'm Paul Russo," he said.

A boy behind Paul shoved his shoulder and said, "Let's get in the pool."

"Go on. We'll talk another time," Pixie said and watched Paul's butt until he dove into the pool. She wondered for a moment how those muscular buns would feel, emptied her drink, and planned to answer her own question.

* * *

Pixie kept her head down, hid behind her sunglasses, and watched from under her broad-brimmed hat. She walked between the fruit stands and art booths that filled a shaded part of the park, and she watched three young men joking with each other at the edge of the market.

Paul Russo was one of those young men. She saw his friends leave and watched him weave through the shoppers and dodge the kids who chased each other among the stands, It wasn't until he was close, and she was sure he was angling for her, that she turned and smiled. "Paul! Why didn't you leave with your friends?"

Paul was surprised. Pixie must have been watching. "I need to get back home," he said, "but I saw you here." Just as inevitably as before, his eyes followed down the lines of Pixie's throat and into the open neck of her blouse.

"Walk with me," Pixie said. She tucked a hand around his arm, and gave him little choice. She pulled herself close; her touch and her perfume tickled his senses. "You guys looked out of place. Let me guess. You were looking for girls."

"We found one," Paul said. "Can I carry that for you?" He motioned to Pixie's basket loaded with melons, peaches, and cucumbers.

Pixie smiled at Paul's line and slipped the basket off her arm, "Would you?" she asked. "It's getting heavy, and I have a couple more stops to make."

She added zucchini and a pound of figs to the basket, and she enjoyed the way Paul watched while she shopped. When her basket was full, Pixie led Paul out of the shady park, away from the squealing kids, and down the alley between their houses.

Pixie leaned against the wall beside her back gate and said. "It's getting muggy." She opened another button on her blouse and watched Paul while she fanned herself. He got that mindless look that she prized so much, and she asked, "What do you have to do today?"

Paul looked up from Pixie's cleavage and closed his mouth before he answered. "Dad asked me to dig out some shrubs. I've been putting it off, but he's bringing Sophia over for the weekend. He wants the place to look good for his girlfriend."

"So your Dad has a girlfriend." Pixie said, and raised her eyebrows. "Do you? I'm guessing you don't since you were in the park looking for girls."

"Not right now," Paul said. "Just, you know, a date now and then."

Pixie stepped close and smiled. "I like the way you look at me," she said. "Come back when you're done with your job. A couple neighbors are coming over for lunch, but I'm free after that. Say about two?"

"Should I bring anything?" Paul asked. It was all he could think to ask.

"Just your libido," Pixie said. She slipped through the gate and smiled back at Paul, who stood open-mouthed and stared.

It was a little after two when Paul stood at Pixie's back gate. He showered when he was done with his job, but he still ran his fingers through his hair and checked his smell before he rang the bell. He didn't know what to expect, but anticipation was already stirring his cock.

Pixie answered the gate with one hand full of fresh-cut flowers. She let Paul step through, and the gate closed behind him with a solid click.

"You look really hot!" Paul said.

Pixie laughed at his wide-eyed expression. She held her sun hat with one hand and turned on her high heels. She wore a long sundress that swirled from her hips as she moved. As near as Paul could tell, Pixie wore nothing under the dress. The afternoon sunlight penetrated the halter top and showed the shape of her breasts; the dark skin around her nipples showed through.

"It was good you were a little late. It gave me time to change," Pixie said. She pushed the flowers into his hands. "I need to get these into a vase. Come with me."

Pixie led Paul into the kitchen while his eyes traced her tanned back from her shoulders to the spread of her hips. She laid her hat on the sideboard and filled a crystal vase at the sink. When she turned back to him he blurted, "How old are you?" then he blushed again. "Oh shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

Pixie took the flowers from Paul's hand, and she answered with a question. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen," Paul said, and hurried to add, "I'll be a sophomore at the U this year."

"Good," Pixie said. She put the vase on the counter to arrange the flowers. "How old do you think I am?" she asked.

Paul squirmed, and Pixie let him off the hook. She stood close and patted the bulge in his jeans. "For now, that's not important. This is what's important," she said, and Paul caught his breath.

Paul hung close over Pixie's shoulder and inhaled her scent while she cut the flower stems to the right lengths. He touched his hands to her hips, but she turned away to put the vase on the end of the counter.

"Do you like figs?" Pixie asked. She settled her sun hat back on her head, opened the refrigerator, and lifted out a plate of the figs she bought that morning. "They don't keep very long, so we should eat some."

"I've never had them like that," Paul said and followed her to the patio. "Just in, you know, Fig Newtons and stuff."

"That's different," Pixie said. She stopped at a small table shaded by a broad umbrella and put the figs down with the bottle of suntan lotion and other things scattered there. She adjusted the umbrella to better shade the chaise lounge beside the table then laid back and said "Sit down here," and pointed Paul to a spot beside her.

Pixie selected a plump-looking fig, sunk her thumbnails into the fruit and tore it open so Paul could see the glistening pink flesh inside. "Does that look like something you'd like?" she asked.

Paul stared at the fruit, and all he could think of was pussy—wet pussy. He was still staring when Pixie tore the fruit in two and held half of it to his lips. "Open up," she said, and pushed it into his mouth.

"That's really good," Paul said. He swallowed, used his fingers to wipe some stray juice off his chin, and watched Pixie pick another fig from the plate.

"They're the sexiest fruit," Pixie said and tore the fig open. "Eve tempted Adam with an apple. I'd have used a fig." She watched Paul as she set half of it on her tongue then leaned toward him with her lips parted. Paul seemed confused until she said, "Kiss me."

Paul put his lips over Pixie's, and then caught his breath when she pushed the fig into his mouth. They shared the fruit for a moment before the thrills overwhelmed Paul. He swallowed again and pushed Pixie down onto the lounge with her breasts cupped in his hands.

The taste of the fig still lingered in Pixie's mouth while he explored her with his hands and his tongue. Her breath was warm on his cheek, and her body was tense with excitement.

Pixie pushed her tits back against Paul's touch and slipped her hands under his shirt. She grasped hands full of him and ground the heel of her palms into his firm muscles. His skin grew slick under a film of sweat.

Paul broke off their kiss and gasped in Pixie's ear. "I'm so turned on, I can't breathe. I can't think." He kissed her ear, and he kissed her throat. "You feel so good. You taste so good," Paul said. He sent thrills up Pixie's spine and down between her thighs.

"You don't need to think," Pixie said. She squirmed to get her legs around him and tugged up on his shirt. Paul took a second to realize what Pixie was doing, and he lifted his arms so she could pull the shirt over his head. She unbuckled his belt, opened his jeans, and shoved her hands inside.

Pixie was pleased. Paul's cock was thick and strong, and it pulsed with the energy she wanted. His boxers were already damp with pre-cum, and the head of his cock was wet, so Pixie's fingers slipped smoothly over those sensitive curves.

Paul's instinct took over, and he fucked Pixie's soft hands. He groaned into her ear and said "Oh God! I want to put it in you."

"We'll have plenty of time for that," Pixie said. She pulled back to watch Paul's face while her fingers danced along his shaft. "We will, won't we?" and she smiled when Paul nodded his answer.

Pixie held Paul's cock in one hand and his balls in the other. She pumped its shaft and teased its head until he gasped and said, "Oh shit!" Pixie squealed as Paul's hot cream gushed into her hands and onto her dress. His body undulated over her until the last of his spasms passed and his muscles relaxed.

Paul collapsed on the lounge beside Pixie. She licked him off her fingers and kissed his lips. The sweat-slick skin on his shoulders and his back slipped under her touch, and she kissed his forehead.

Pixie pulled her sundress off her shoulder to expose her tit, and she whispered in Paul's ear. "Let me feed you," she said. "Suck me. Thrill me."

Pixie's nipple hardened while Paul kissed her and sucked her. He squeezed his face between her tits and felt their heat against his cheeks. Paul inhaled the scent from her skin and explored her areolas with his tongue. He drew her nipples between his lips, and then between his teeth.

Paul couldn't get enough of Pixie's scent and taste. He pushed up on his hands to watch her face. Her breath came in shallow pants, and she watched him from under drooping eyelids. Paul gave in to a sudden urge. He slipped down between Pixie's legs and knelt on the patio.

Pixie laughed and lifted her legs apart when he burrowed under her sundress. She wasn't as naked under there as Paul thought. He peeled a white thong down and tossed it aside, pushed his head between her thighs, and buried his face in her feminine scent and taste.

"Do you know what you're doing?" she asked and caught her breath.

Paul laughed from between her legs. "I'll find out." She cradled his head in her hands, and her pussy opened for Paul like the fresh fig she'd fed to him not long before. He pushed his tongue as far into her as he could reach, and he lapped up her musky nectar.

Paul's enthusiasm made up for some of what he lacked in experience. Pixie set her high-heels on his shoulders and stroked his head under the dress. Her breath came fast and shallow, and Paul slipped his tongue among her intimate folds. He worked his way up to her clit and then down along her deep creases, then down again. Pixie groaned and writhed when his tongue found her asshole, and that was when she decided that Paul needed a little instruction.

"Here you go," she said, and tugged on Paul's head to get his mouth to her clit. "You have me going, so don't stop now."

Paul was surprised, but he didn't stop. His cock ached with excitement while he licked her and sucked her. He found Pixie's hardened bud and drew it between his lips.

Pixie clamped her thighs over Paul's ears and bucked under his tongue. It wasn't something she planned, it was something he forced her to do. Her orgasm grew deep in her center, and when she climaxed it exploded through her body. She caught her breath and writhed in Paul's arms. The thrill blanked her mind, and spasms rippled through her muscles.

Paul gripped Pixie's hips and kept working his tongue over her until she pushed him away. "No! Stop!" she said. "It's too sensitive." He sat down beside the lounge and watched Pixie relax. Her dress was bunched around her waist. Her tits heaved. Thick juice seeped from her vagina and trickled down over her taint.

Paul used Pixie's dress to wipe his face and then climbed onto the lounge. Pixie looked down at Paul's veined shaft standing up between her legs, and she gave a little squeal. "Wait!" she said and scrambled back against the top of the lounge. "Let me catch my breath."

Paul's lust was out of control, and he wasn't going to talk about it. He wrapped one arm around Pixie's waist when she tried to roll away, and he pushed her onto her elbows against the back of the lounge. She ducked her head against her arms while Paul lifted her dress to bare her butt.

Pixie arched her back to offer Paul the pink target that glistened between her legs. He parted her folds and opened her with his fingers. He grasped his cock in one hand, and he pushed its fat head into her.

"Not so fast!" Pixie said, so Paul stopped for the longest moment he could. One hand held her hip and the other held her tit. His next thrust shoved her hard against the back of the lounge. He drew back, and then his next thrust filled her.

"God, you feel good," Paul said. He wrapped Pixie in his arms, held her tight, and pounded against her butt. His shaft pumped Pixie's cunt. The sensations from fucking her gripped his balls and tightened his muscles. The excitement filled his mind.

Paul's heat and his strength where inside Pixie and all around her. There was nothing she could—or would—do now to stop him or even slow him down. Her pussy tightened around his plunging shaft. She threw her head back against his chest and gasped for breath, and with each repeated thrust his body slapped against hers.

Paul held Pixie and stopped with her butt squeezed under him and his whole, throbbing shaft buried deep inside her. His essence gushed the length of his cock. He flooded her again, and then again, and Pixie felt his irresistible young energy fill her and flow through her body. That was why Pixie wanted Paul. That was what she craved.

Pixie knew that Paul was almost done when his movements slowed and his weight sagged onto her back. She knew he was completely done when his cock slipped out of her, and he collapsed on the lounge.

"Oh God, Pixie!" Paul said. "My balls ache. I don't think I've ever come that hard." He pulled Pixie into his arms and kissed her face and her neck. "I thought I had some control, but I guess I don't." Paul talked with his lips close by Pixie's ear and sent a thrill through her body.

"Don't get control for my sake," Pixie said. "I want you eager. I want you excited."

Pixie sat up next to Paul and pulled her dress over her head. Paul's eyes traced every detail of her naked body, and Pixie moved to let him see anything he wanted. Her golden skin was unmarked by tan lines, so he asked, "You tan naked?"

"And you're about to," Pixie said. She pulled Paul's shoes and socks off, and tugged on his jeans and boxers until she could drop them on the patio. Pixie climbed to her knees once Paul was naked, and she ran her hands over his body. His muscular torso tapered from broad shoulders to narrow hips. His legs were long and his muscles rippled when he moved.

Paul's skin was bronze, except where his swim suit covered him. "You're going to burn out here," Pixie said. She stood to get the bottle of suntan lotion, and sat down again. "Roll over. Let me do your back."

Paul rolled onto his side while Pixie warmed lotion in her hands. She smoothed it over his skin and traced his muscles with her finger tips.

"I bet you could have any guy you want," Paul said and turned his head to watch her. "Why me? Why not some guy who's older and knows what they're doing?"

Pixie warmed more lotion and started rubbing it over Paul's calves. "Because they know what they're doing." Pixie said. Paul's confusion was obvious, so she laughed and explained. "I told you before that I want you to be eager and energetic. I wasn't saying that to make you feel better. That's what really thrills me. That's what gets me off."

She switched from one leg to the other and worked her way slowly up his thigh as she talked. "It won't take long before you learn too much, so don't get carried away and think I'm going to be your girlfriend, because I'm not. We're done about as soon as you're predictable."

Paul didn't know what to say. Should he be disappointed or relieved? He was some of both.

Pixie warmed more lotion and slipped her hand between Paul's legs. "Before that happens, let's have fun," she said. She tickled Paul's balls, and he lifted his legs apart. She spread the lotion up and smoothed it over his hip. Pixie worked first on one cheek then on the other, and then she set the lotion aside.

Pixie grabbed both of Paul's cheeks and squeezed. It was something she'd wanted to do since they met at Steve's party. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," Pixie said. She spread his cheeks apart, stroked her thumbs around and over his asshole then pushed one thumb into him. It was like pushing a button.

Paul jumped and squirmed. "Why did you do that?" he asked, and Pixie laughed.

"Just giving your battery a little charge," Pixie said and climbed off the lounge. She handed the lotion bottle to Paul and said, "Now I need you to oil me." She stretched out, belly-down on a mat by the pool and left Paul gawking.

Paul sat down beside her and warmed lotion in his hands. He spread it over her shoulders, down her back, and said, "You have to be the hottest girl I've ever known, I mean, Sophia thinks she's hot, but she's not in your league."

"Sophia, your Dad's girlfriend?" Pixie asked. It seemed odd for Paul to bring her up.