SPF Zero

I drove home from the airport after midnight. It had taken me twenty frustrating minutes to find my car. Hanoi to Hong Kong, seven hours, Hong Kong to Toronto, fifteen hours, and an hour in the car. I didn't even know what time it was supposed to be, and I couldn't keep my eyes open. I opened the windows, the sunroof, cranked some AC/DC, anything to stay awake; I even tried jerking off about that flight attendant I'd hung out with in the galley, somewhere over the Pacific, her blouse, with one extra button undone, showing lovely cleavage while crouching down to organize the drink cart. Still, my eyes were closing on their own when I pulled into the driveway.

There was a light on next door. My neighbour, Barb, was in her kitchen. She was wearing a tight, white t-shirt that hugged her curves and stopped just short of her ass. A little rush of adrenaline perked me up and I paused to sneak a peak. It was a hot night and she was drinking a glass of water. She walked over to the patio door and I could see her reflection, those big boobs stretching the thin fabric. She was looking at her reflection too. It was a lovely sight until she switched off the light, my cue to stop being a Peeping Tom and get some sleep.

In the morning I had coffee on the porch, trying not to surrender to the jet lag. Barb carried her blue bin to the curb in a short, silky robe. She and her husband, Dave, were retired; they'd moved in last fall. They had lots of friends and were very a nice older couple, always together, always happy. She set the bin down with perfect form, chest up, butt back, a slight bend in her knees, her robe barely covering her firm, round ass, like a pinup model. She waved to me on her way back. I enjoyed my coffee and contemplated a week at home without my wife and nothing much to do. I also thought about how horny I was.

Later, upstairs, getting a towel and my old swim team Speedo that Wifey hates so much, I saw Barb climb out of her pool. She had to be in her sixties, but that body was fit and plump in all the right places, and that stringy bikini was two sizes too small for her. As she toweled off, her big boobs swayed. The white towel contrasting nicely against her tanned skin, and dirty-blonde hair, wet from the pool. I imagined her in high school, a hippie chick on her boyfriend's shoulders, flashing those tits at a Zeppelin concert, hoping for a backstage pass so she could fuck the band.

She walked to the clothesline next to the fence between our yards and threw her towel over the line, next to some white sheets that were already drying, obscuring my view. Then she looked around and reached back, tugging on the string of her top and pulling it over her head. As she tossed it over the line, her body was silhouetted behind a sheet, back-lit by the mid-morning sun. She paused and then with a devilish look she shook her hair side to side, biting her lip while looking straight ahead, as if performing for someone, then she dropped her bottoms and tossed them on the line too. Now, naked, she stood there, less exposed to me than when she climbed out of the pool but somehow more, and with a sly smile she turned and disappeared from sight. She was a good fifteen years older than me, but I still got hard replaying that scene in my mind.

I went out to the cabana and made myself a Daiquiri before setting up in my lounger by the pool, aligning it to the sun, putting on headphones, and closing my eyes. I dozed off to some ambient music -- Music for Airports - thinking about my sexy neighbour. It occurred to me she always wore revealing clothes, low-cut tops, short skirts, tight sweaters, etc. She would get into a downward dog pose in her Daisy Dukes while gardening, knees spread wide, as she reached for a weed. I wondered if she was an exhibitionist.

I fell asleep in the sun and was soon having a very vivid dream: a Sauble Beach sunset, my old Bimmer parked on the sand, top down, long may you run, endless, sun-bleached summers, beaches, and back roads.

The memories get better with age: fucking in a tent, in the rain, while pine cones thudded down like hail on the rain-fly, my high-school swim team girlfriend, ass up, peaking out the tent and carrying on a casual conversation with her best friend, who was outside, making coffee under a tarp, while we fucked. The big, dumb, horny jock I was, listening to them carry on while her pussy gripped my cock like a vice, and she feigned indifference. My hands almost fit around her tiny waist. When I came all over her ass cheeks, I slapped them with my cock loud enough for her giggling friend to ask what was going on in there. Then she unzipped the tent and sprinted to the lake, splashing into the deep, cool water. I followed, streaking across the campsite. Her friend, laughing, joining us for an early morning skinny dip while the rest of our gang slept off their hangovers, and the rain poured down.

Images flickered randomly through my brain as if floating in a 3D, overexposed, Kodachrome, heat, jet lag and rum induced acid trip slide show of my life. But someone was calling my name! A beautiful girl, coming out of the surf, naked. She was waving as she ran towards me. Where was I? Who was she? Her boobs bouncing as she ran in slow motion, 1970s string bikini tan lines, long, blonde hair, impossible lens flare, funky sun rays, hazy, diffused, colourful starbursts, and polygons, projected through the entire golden, sunglasses filtered scene.

"Jay! Jay!" the voice getting louder. The beautiful stranger crashed into the warm sand at my feet, splashing my legs with sand and salty drops of water from her wet body. I could taste the salt on my tongue and my nostrils filled with the fragrance of coconut oil on tanned skin.

"Jay! Wake up! You're getting burnt! And I need a drink!"

I woke up and there was someone calling my name. It was Barb. She was looking over the top of the fence, in a wide brimmed hat and oversize, red-framed, knock-off Wayfarers, smiling. A baby blue bikini with big white polka dots, framed above the white picket fence and the blue, cloudless sky, a seashell necklace dangling deep into her dark, freckled cleavage.

"Hey, sorry! Your ice is melting and you're getting burnt. Let's have a Mojito. I'll push some mint through the fence, there's lots," her high, girly voice didn't seem to match her age.

"Barb, wow, thanks, I do need sunscreen. Mojitos are a great idea. Let's do it."

We hadn't really hung out much, but we would pass drinks back and forth occasionally and chatted a bit since they moved in. I was getting up when I realized I had an obvious hard-on.

"Come on Jay, here's the mint," she was pushing a bunch of mint through the fence with her foot. I wondered how long she'd stood there before waking me up. Was she looking at my hard-on while I slept? Was it bulging in my briefs?

"Okay, one second, I got a head rush."

"Oh, I know," she giggled.

I finally stood up and got to the relative cover of the fence. I thought about how close I was to her with my boner, as we chatted. Here we were, almost naked, standing closer to one other than we would have been had there not been a few wooden boards between us. I crouched down to pick some mint, her foot was tanned and had little flip-flop tan-lines, and her toenails had a fresh coat of red paint. She wore a dangly silver ankle bracelet with charms on it and I could smell coconut oil. She kept her foot there as I picked the mint from in between her wiggling toes.

"Why don't you come over? Does Dave want one too?"

"Sure! But Dave's not here."

I went to the cabana to mix the drinks. Barb came through the gate with a beach towel and spread it out on the lounger next to mine, then she came over to my little Tiki bar and plopped down on a stool, like a regular. I was now the cabana boy at an all-inclusive. I muddled the mint in the bottom of our glasses until it was a fine, muddled mess.

"Jay, where have you been?"

"On the road for a few weeks. Now I'm super crazy jet lagged. That's why I'm working so hard."

"I can see you're working hard."

"And I see you're working hard too, on your tan."

"Thanks Jay. Coconut oil. SPF Zero."

"I know. Nothing smells better."

"Nothing? Really?"

I presented her drink, with a slice of lime and some mint leaves for garnish, on a wooden coaster from somewhere, like a real bartender.

"Thank-you, young man. You know just how I like it. You'll get a big tip later."

Comfortable in our lounge chairs, Barb was reading some book club book, with an ambiguous sounding title; probably an oblique reference to something in the story, but I wasn't about to tease my new friend about her summer reading list. I only read stuff that ends with 'then strain into a chilled glass with lots of cracked ice'.

"Jay, I love your old-school bathing suit. You never wear it. Not many guys could pull that off!"

"Wifey hates it so I only wear it when she's away."

"People are way too covered up these days, besides, it really fits you," she added. "It took me some effort to wake you up. I even flicked water at you. You must have been having a great dream! What was it about?"

"I don't know. It was pretty random."

"Really, you were enjoying it. I felt bad waking you up, but you don't want to burn those big shoulders. It's going to be a long, hot summer."

"I'm glad you got me up."

"Hmm."

A mixture of sweat and coconut oil formed a tiny little pool on her belly. I thought about what that would taste like. She went back to her book, I put some Jimmy Buffett on the outdoor speakers and grabbed the summer edition of 'Food & Drink', the most popular magazine in Ontario. I only read it for the pictures.

We hung out all afternoon and decided that because we were both "single" for a few days we'd have dinner together. I would burn some meat on the grill, and she'd do everything else, a perfect plan.

At around four o'clock I noticed a big, fluffy cloud on the horizon. It was perched atop the roof of the cabana like a giant dollop of whipped cream. There was a girl on a surfboard riding a wave in the cloud and I wondered what Barb would bring for dessert. The sun was like a blast furnace and I went to freshen up our drinks as Barb flipped over and undid her top. I rubbed my dick with one hand and stirred the drinks with the other. Her legs were spread wide and her thong disappeared between her butt cheeks.

Returning, I noticed a temporary tattoo on her ass. It was small and looked like a spade from a deck of cards but with a design in it.

"Nice tattoo."

"Tattoo? Oh! It's still there? Dave got it for me for a party last week. I can't believe it's still there!"

"It's fading. A party?"

"It was just for fun," before adding, "a pool party."

"I could never commit to a real one, but I like the idea of a temporary one."

"Same. Too much of a commitment," Barb said, getting up on her elbows to sip, giving me a glorious side-boob view.

"Jay, would you mind putting some oil on my back?" she asked, passing me a slippery plastic bottle of coconut oil.

"Sure."

"It's a spray, so you can just spray it on."

Was there an option? Did she want me to rub it in? I sprayed a shiny coat all over her back.

"Do you want some on your legs too?"

"Of course, silly."

I pumped that spray nozzle until she glistened in the sun and my finger was sore. The air was filled with the smell of coconut and hot, tanned skin.

"Why don't you rub it in for me?"

"You don't mind?"

"Uh no! Jay! You're too easy! This is great service!"

I went to work, starting with lightly massaging her shoulders while squatting next to the lounger in an awkward position.

"Jay, haven't you ever given a massage?"

"Yes." I have given plenty of massages.

"Well then, pretend you're giving me a massage."

"Yes ma'am. It's just hard to get in a good position here."

"Then climb on top. There's room."

I swung my leg over the chair and positioned my right knee on the vinyl strapping between her and the metal frame, then repeated the process on the other side. I was now in a very unmanageable position. My knees rested on the vinyl straps which provided little support, and I couldn't sit back comfortably so I inched forward to massage her shoulders. This put my dick close to her ass. I leaned in and it was clear there would be some incidental contact as I tried to preserve some semblance of propriety.

While massaging her shoulders she said, "Oh, yes, give it to me good, pool boy!" I was determined to give the best massage possible on a vinyl strap lounger. I worked her upper back like a pro. My knees sinking into the gap between two straps, so I had to squeeze tight against her side for support which she seemed to enjoy.

I'd sunk another inch into the strapping, my thighs firmly pressed to her warm, oily hips. As I worked on her back, my cock found itself nestled between her ass cheeks and Barb wiggled in appreciation.

"Mmm, Jay, that feels good. Keep going. Work my lower back now."

I did as I was told. I was the pool boy. I slid down and started working on her lower back. I was now between her legs in a better position as I worked on her lower back and I could see her temporary tattoo. It was a spade with the letter 'Q' inscribed inside, I figured it was the Queen of Spades. It must have been some kind of adult poker game.

"Barb, would you like me to massage your feet and legs?"

"Yes, please!"

I folded a towel on the concrete so I could kneel in comfort. I started with her feet and worked my up. I worked those feet and stared at that ass. Her thong was wedged into her cheeks and she would wiggle every so often to let me know how I was doing. The anklet dangling in front of me was full of little charms: a dolphin, a sailboat, letters, another spade, a fox, and some others. The silver looked nice against her tanned skin. I worked my way up her smooth, toned legs.

"Do you like my charms?"

"Yes! You must be a collector."

"I am. Dave gets most of them for me."

"How's the pressure? Am I hitting the right spots? Are there any areas I should focus on?"

"It's great. Extremely professional."

I started working her upper thighs one leg at a time, gliding my hands over her oily legs, up and down in long strokes, working as close to her pussy as I dared with my fingertips, trying hard to be less professional. She wiggled and spread her legs wider as my fingers slid along her inner thighs.

When I finished, I asked her if she wanted me to "work on her glutes" which I sounded better than "rub oil on her ass".

"Yes, please. I thought you'd forgotten my ass!" I had not.

I knelt on the lounger between her legs. "Mmm, Jay." I got a little bolder and started massaging her ass with both hands in an inside out motion, one on each side, gently spreading her ass cheeks and then bringing them back together, letting my thumb slide deep into the crack of her ass, lightly grazing the cloth on her thong.

"Let me adjust, Jay," as she spread her legs even wider, "That's better."

I continued, working her ass cheeks in slow, firm, circular motions, as Barb moaned in appreciation.

"Okay, pool boy, it's your turn now. Why don't you lie down on your front and get comfortable? I'm not putting my top back on because of all the oil, so no peeking!"

I laid down on the lounger, dizzy at the thought of getting a topless massage in my own backyard from my next-door neighbour. Barb oiled me up, then climbed onto my back. She started with my shoulders as she at on my ass and leaned in, applying lots of pressure, her constant wiggling was crushing my cock against the straps, making my captive erection swell against the vinyl.

"I need more oil, so hold still," as she reached for the bottle on the patio in front of me. I felt her breasts touch my back. She struggled for that bottle and I offered to reach it. "No, I got this, just relax." It took a lot of wiggling and her boobs were sliding all over my back as she struggled to reach the bottle. "See, that wasn't hard. You must play hockey, you've got a really thick lower back, all muscle, and a big, firm, hockey butt, I just want to spank it," and with that she grabbed an ass cheek and squeezed it like a rump roast at the butcher shop.

My dick was ready to burst as she worked me over, eventually getting to my legs. When she worked my thighs with long strokes, her fingertips brushed the tip of my cock through my swimsuit. Every time. When she finished, I half expected her to ask me to turn over as if it were the local rub n' tug. Instead, she gave my ass a hard slap that could be heard two yards over, and then lay back down on her lounger for a nap. It took me a while to recover from sensory overload but eventually I drifted off again too, with the sound of a fresh breeze rustling the leaves of the Poplar tree next door.

My first golden shower came as a surprise from a beautiful woman I met at a conference. She was fun and hilarious and horny, with a hot Chilean accent, and a PhD in something I pretended to be aware of. We had hung out together at a reception, then the hotel lounge, then her room.

She was on my face, her pussy riding my tongue as she deep-throated my cock. She crushed me deep into the memory foam as I sucked on her clit and made out with her delicious pussy, when a sudden warmth flooded my mouth. I swallowed before even processing what was happening. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of complete surrender to her body and when I came, seconds later, she kept sucking me into her mouth, coaxing out every drop of my cum. Then she sat up, putting her full weight on my face, ass smothering me, before spinning around and dropping down on my chest, kissing me full on the lips, her mouth full of my cum, which she shared with me as we made out.

A thousand tiny little fingers were sharply tapping me all over. I jumped. Rain gushed down in buckets. Barb and I sprinted to the cabana. She slid past as I closed the door. We were laughing and looking out at the storm from the shelter of the cabana.

"Jay, my top!" Barb turned to me, soaked, hands covering her boobs.

"I'll get it."

"And my tote!"

I ran back to the chair and grabbed her stuff. When I handed Barb her top, I covered my eyes but didn't turn away.

"That's right, no peeking!" I squinted through a crack between my fingers and had a fuzzy view as Barb dropped her hands. Before she put her top on, she just stood there for a second looking me up and down and pinching her nipples. My cock strained, there was no hiding it. Barb was looking at my bulge and smiling a devilish smile, as she put her top back on.

"Okay."

"I can't believe how fast that storm hit!"

"I know, I guess we're stuck in here for a while, let's have another drink!"

The rain pounded, the pool was a blur and water poured off the roof in all directions, even the stools the other side of the bar from us were drenched despite being under the peak of the roof. Barb cozied up, her hips touching mine, the heat rolled off her body, and she rested her hand on my back, leaning in to watch me muddling the mint, her boobs resting on the bar.

"I need to learn how to do this because Dave loves Mojitos."

"Oh, you're trying to steal my recipe! It's a secret!"

"It looks like you know what you're doing."

"I was a real bartender when I was in school."

"Ah, that explains it. Did you ever work at a resort?"

"No, just a hotel lounge."

"We love going to resorts and hanging out by the pool bars, just like this, or the swim up bars!"

"I love it too. Have you gone anywhere recently?"

"We just got back from a quickie in Cuba. Just three days, but we got an amazing deal and went down with two other couples."

"That sounds great!"

"I have some pictures. I'll show you."

Barb dug her phone out of the tote and started punching at the screen as I finished making the drinks.