The Summer of 98bySuzyFloosie©
One of my ex-boyfriends gave me the basis of this story, hence why it's told from a male view point......
My neighbour, Mrs. Smith, became something of an obsession over the hot weeks during the summer of '98. You see, she was in the habit of sunbathing in her garden believing her shrubs, hedges and rather substantial fence protected her from prying eyes. Which they did, unless those eyes were looking from our attic window.
Ironically, it was because of the heat that I needed to open the window. I'd been packing some boxes up there and it was sweltering. The window, having been shut for years, was jammed and so I had climbed onto a chair to give it a good shove. It shot open and of course I looked out of it. That's when I spied the rather delicious Mrs. Smith in the most revealing of bikinis. She might have been a middle-aged lady of size fourteen proportions, but my eighteen-year-old cock certainly appreciated the view.
Well that's how it happened the first day. I ogled her body for a few minutes and then moved away, admonishing myself for being a peeping tom. The next day however, I convinced myself it was harmless fun and dug out my old binoculars. I couldn't resist giving Mrs Smith a more thorough examination. The x50 magnification virtually put her in touching distance.
I could see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and the bulge of her vulva as the bikini bottoms disappeared between her succulent looking thighs. Such a small thin strip of material protected her modesty.
She reached for her sun oil and poured some onto her chest. I gazed on in amazement as she moved the material to one side and rubbed oil onto her tits. I watched as her nipples became hard, her globes gleamed in the sunlight and I swear her breathing increased. She tweaked one nipple almost lazily. My dick twitched.
Still balanced on the chair and holding the binoculars to my eyes, I lowered my zipper and extracted my cock. Not an easy task while balancing on a chair, I can tell you.
Mrs. Smith meantime, had moved onto her belly. Her fingers swirled in oil and then disappeared under the material of her bikini bottoms. I stroked myself at a steady pace, hardly daring to hope she would lower them. Her hand stayed inside her panties and her hips started to buck, her mouth opened slightly, my own fingers keeping rhythm with her movements. I fucked Mrs. Smith inside my head. My hand pumping my hard dick as I imagined my cock sliding in and out of her hot body. We both reached a crashing orgasm five minutes later.
The same pattern followed for day two, three and four. Mrs. Smith obviously required regular relief and I enjoyed the free show. However, on the fifth day things took a new direction. I took up my vantage point later in the day than normal, which meant the sun was further up the garden and Mrs. Smith had moved her lounger. To my shock, it now faced towards my attic window. I quickly climbed back down off the chair, panicking that she was looking straight at me through those sunglasses. I then castigated myself for being such a coward.
There was no way she would be scanning rooftops. I watched her for a while, the binoculars proving to be worth their weight in cum. She checked her watch, put on a wrap and disappeared back towards her house. Moments later, she reappeared with Mr. Smith in tow. She sat on the edge of the lounger while he stood in front of her. I could hardly believe my eyes as she reached up, unzipped him and released a respectably large cock. Her tongue swirled around his bell end and then the entire length disappeared into her mouth. Her lips bobbed back and forth along it with enthusiastic vigour. Mr. Smith gripped her by the hair, virtually fucking her face. From there things moved on at quite a pace.
Much to my delight, Mr. Smith went from mauling her oily globes to tugging the nipples and stretching her flesh. He then pushed her back and yanked her panties to one side, allowing me a brief uninterrupted view of her hot open cunt hole, before sinking his meat into his prone and wanton wife.
She welcomed him fully, locking her legs high over his back. With the powerful binoculars, I was able to witness the folds of her cunt cling to his cock on each withdrawal. I could clearly see his dick covered in her juice. I knew as his hairy balls bounced off her tight arsehole he wouldn't be able to keep up such a pace for long. Sure enough, he slumped forward, his body twitching as he emptied those large bollocks into her.
As he rolled clear Mrs Smith stayed legs akimbo, I watched the fresh sperm leak from her hole, I watched her trail a finger through it, collecting the white fluid from her gaping cunt. She then lifted it to her lips and drank it down. I shot my load.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
My mother's words made me jump to such an extent I fell off the chair. Landing with trousers still round ankles, binoculars still round neck and spunk residue on my belly.
She looked down at me, then went and peeked out the window before heading back down stairs.
"I'll deal with you later."
I listened to the phone call in a state of huge embarrassment, as my mother explained to Mrs. Smith I had been spying on her and that I owed her an apology at the very least. Thankfully my mother didn't go into full details and so it was the next day I handed the flowers to Mrs. Smith as I stammered and mumbled my apology.
Mrs Smith looked me up and down saying, "sometimes sorry isn't good enough Adam, I feel I need more, now strip."
"You heard the lady Adam." It was Mr. Smith who appeared from no-where. "If you go peeking into other people's lives it's only fair if they peek into yours, now strip."
He moved to cover my escape and I realised I had better just accept my punishment. If Mrs. Smith phoned my Mum and said I hadn't apologised, I'd be grounded forever. Within a minute, I was naked, my hands covering my manhood, my clothes in an untidy pile.
"Put your hands at your side Adam."
Mrs. Smith was looking right at my cock as she said it. She smacked it gently as she looked down and it jerked.
"I think you like this game Adam." I watched her breasts heave under the thin wrap she wore. "I think peeping Toms are perverts. Are you a pervert, Adam?"
I found myself quickly saying "yes!"
She grasped me by my cock and led me through into the lounge. Sitting on the sofa, she pulled me forwards, my cock now directly in front of her mouth. Her tongue flicks had me fully erect and then her lips engulfed me.
Although I could hear Mr. Smith undressing behind me, I didn't care because Mrs Smith had opened her wrap and was showing me her welcoming cunt. The one I had been wanking over for the last five days. I reached down, my fingers brushing her hot sticky entrance. My knees seemed to give way, I was so eager to taste her. My own naked rear vulnerable as my tongue entered her. She held my head and I felt rough hands upon my butt cheeks. Rubbing, squeezing, then warm liquid, and then a hand pumping my rock hard cock. A finger trailed back up past my scrotum and onto my arse. More liquid and then pressure. A stubby finger entered my rear. The sensation was unbelievable. Mrs. Smith soothed me, told me to relax and it wouldn't hurt. She held my head firm between her thighs.
Mr. Smith was now comfortably pumping two fingers in and out of my virgin butt hole and I had to admit I was enjoying it. The pain had subsided and pleasure had taken its place. In fact, when he withdrew them completely, I felt empty. I reached back with my own hand, fingering my hole.
Mrs. Smith climbed under me and lay on the floor saying, "I want to watch." Then she put my cock into her mouth and I resumed licking between her open legs. I knew I was going to be mounted and in my lust, I wanted it!
Mr. Smith slapped my butt cheeks. I felt like a bitch, I felt hot, I felt like I needed fucking. His fingers worked my hole a little more and then I felt the head of his cock enter me. Mrs. Smith came in my mouth instantly at the sight of her husband sliding his cock into the neighbour's son's virgin butt hole.
He screwed me hard and I licked his wife's dripping hole harder. His cock pummelled my rear and he called me a slut. He pulled on my hair and told me to take it. Mrs. Smith was doing her best to fuck my mouth with her cunt, her heels pushed down on the floor, her hips bucking upwards. My tongue never left her hole, even as I agreed at Mr. Smith's insistence that "yes, I was a dirty little pervert and yes, I did love his big cock in my arse."
He shot a huge load into me moments later and I shot mine into Mrs Smith's waiting, hot, eager mouth. Mrs. Smith then had me bend over the arm of the settee and spread my butt cheeks. She examined my gaping hole before tonguing her husband's cum from it. I'd never felt so exposed, so used, so vulnerable.
When I eventually stood back up, Mr. Smith was nowhere to be seen. I dressed somewhat sheepishly and Mrs. Smith, still naked, showed me to the door saying, "perhaps I would learn to behave in the future."
She then added with a rather naughty twinkle in her eye, "Adam, Mr. Smith won't be here tomorrow. If you come round about midday, perhaps you could help me in the garden?"
The summer of '98 was a great summer, rain or shine, and my mother never realised she had opened Pandora's box.