I am not a summer person. The extra pounds I carry on my belly make clothes feel snug and the sweat has nowhere to go. I love shorts, I look good in them, but I'd rather stay inside when it's 20f than go outside when it is 100F, but today, was about perfect.
We've had several weeks of rain but finally the sun has
broken through, and we have settled into a week of 70 to 80° days with light
cloud cover, foggy mornings, and wonderfully sunny afternoons. I'm working from
home again, working is the key part, I go into the office a couple of days a
week to pick up assignments and shake hands and do the meet and greet routine,
but the middle of the week is blissfully mine as I clean my office and setup
for earning a paycheck.
I have a new neighbor next door, I have thought about them a lot, a sweet young
wife with her husband who has all the right woodworking tools but is gone
longer than he should be with the wife as cute as he has. Today, I'm fighting a
little bit of a head cold, so I have been drinking lots of water, sipping on
scalding hot chocolate, and stepping outside to my backyard for fresh air. My
wife is gone on a two-day work assignment far enough away that we got her a
hotel. This is irrelevant to the story because since I am fighting a cold, she
will not kiss me anyway. She is flying to New York in two weeks to see a
college friend so the risk of getting sick overwhelms any, albeit rare, amorous
intentions. No kissing is the rule until she gets back healthy from the Big
Apple.
The offshoot of my health regime is, “Drink a lot, pee a lot” which means that
I have taken several breaks to relieve myself in the hot sun, watering a little
spot in our backyard each time.
I haven't spoken with Holly since our last conversation through the fence a
couple of weeks ago. I saw her in the driveway with her kids, packing up for it
looked like a soccer game, I waved to her and smiled, and she blushed and smiled
back. I'm not sure if she's admitted to herself what happened the other day,
but I certainly have not forgotten it.
With the end of the spring break her kids are back in school so I imagine that
her days are quiet at home. The noise of the sliding glass door might have
alerted her to my presence because I heard her call over the fence. She said
hello and I smiled and said hello back as I unzipped my pants to relieve myself
from the last round of water.
What are you doing today? She asked.
“Just getting through work,” I said, “writing a presentation for next week’s
staff meeting.
“No,” she said, “I mean what are you doing right now.”
“Well, I'm not laying naked on my lounge chair if that's what you're asking.”
I heard her laugh through the fence and imagined that she blushed a little.
Seriously, she asked, “What are you doing?”
“To be honest,” I said, “I'm taking advantage of the privacy and savings some
money on my plumbing bill at the same time.”
“What?” Her voice raised a little, “Are you seriously peeing in your backyard?”
“Why not?” I said, “our esteemed governor has told us to save water so I'm
doing my part, one flush at a time.”
“Can you wait for a minute?” She asked quietly.
“Yes,” I replied, “but why?”
“Just wait,” she said.
While I waited, I rearranged the weights to my infrequently used weight set,
stacking the rusted plates into piles based on the numbers molded into the
side. 25, 10, 5, 2.5, 1.5 and 1, were in neat little stacks by the time I heard
my side gate open, then close with the click.
She walked into my backyard for the first time and looked around. She saw the
rarely used trampoline, a relic of years of little kids and parties and
sleepovers. She looked at the Playhouse I had built years ago and smiled. She
looked at my dying flowers and my overgrown pomegranate tree and a dwarf orange
that never grew. It remains a dwarf to this day.
“You're looking lovely today.” I said and meant it. She was in a white T-shirt, a flowy linen skirt,
and had her hair in a scrunchy, gathered at nape of her neck.
“I don't have a lot of time.” she said. “I have to go to the grocery store
before I pick up the kids from school.”
“Why are you here, Holly?” I looked at her and waited for an answer.
“I want to watch.”
Her eyes darted around the backyard, trying to avoid my gaze, but eventually they
returned so I can ask the inevitable question, “What do you want to watch?”
“Are we going to play this game every time?” She asked, “making me say the
words I don't want to say.”
“Yes, Holly,” I stepped closer to her and took her by the left hand. “Every
time.”
She held my hand as I walked out from under the shaded awning and into the
bright sunlight. I slipped my feet out of my sandals and felt the cool grass
and wet dirt under my toes. I knew what she wanted. I would gladly give it to
her. But, she needed to be trained and there were rules to be followed.
I knelt down and felt the wet dirt the moisture of the wet dirt soaked through
the denim of my jeans at the knee. I tapped the back of her calf and she lifted
her foot and I slipped off her expensive loafers in the small ankle socks, on
first her left, and then her right foot.
“That feels nice,” she said I stood back up and looked down at her, I can tell
now that she was not wearing a bra under the white T-shirt, and nipples had
hardened and I could see the gentle bumps.
“I make you say the words out loud so we both know what's going to happen, what
you want to have happen, and most importantly, things that will not happen. Saying
it out loud becomes my contract, our bond. I know what you want, you just have
to admit it.”
A gentle breeze made the fabric of her skirt flutter in the wind.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want to watch you pee,” it was a whisper
I unbuckled my pants and unzipped the zipper
“Tell me again and tell me why.”
“I want to watch you pee in the backyard, the bright sun on your naked cock. I
want to see it flow out of you and I want to hear it hit the ground. Why? I
don't know, I've always liked it, I've always liked to watch.”
With a light touch on her shoulders, I had her sit down on the low cinder block
wall the defined my planter space.
“Pull up your skirt.” I said, “You are going to join me.”
“What?” The question came out louder than she expected her head spun back and
forth as if some unseen observer would react. “I've never done that before.”
“I know,” I said, “that's really why you wanted to come over here. You wanted
to get away from your husband's security cameras and you wanted to feel this
sun on your skin and you wanted me to give permission for you to do something new.”
“Perhaps,” was her reply. She stood up and gathered the soft fabric of her
skirt up around her waist. She was wearing simple panties, not of the grandma
variety, but not intentionally sexy either. They were clean and thin and white,
and I could see the folds of her flesh through the gusset as she sat back down
“The key,” I said, “is to not make a mess come on to keep everything dry except
the grass.”
“But I still have my panties on.”
“I know, but not for long.”
She smiled up at me as she sat on the wall. She leaned back and rested her body
weight on one hand and allowed her legs to spread further.
“Take my panties off.” She said.
Without a word I knelt in front of her, brought her legs together, and grabbed
the waistband and pulled them down.
Standing again, I gave the fabric a kiss as she watched.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, “but I'm nervous, and I don't know how it will happen.”
“You just have to relax, feel the sun out of your skin, And let it flow. You can close your eyes if you want to.”
With those instructions, she allowed her legs to spread open, and I saw her lips
for the first time. Her bush was trimmed tight but not shaved, her lips were
exposed and pink and full as I stared at them. My God I was tempted to do more
than just our agreed upon action.
“Just relax,” I said, “can you feel the pressure building?”
“Yes”, she replied.
“Can you feel it building up, can you feel the need,”
“Yes.”
I slipped out of my pants and boxers and stood half naked before her.
“Then let it go.”
She whimpered a little bit as I think she strained to push out the deep golden
fluid while trying to relax at the same time. I kneeled down in front of her
and put my hands on the inside of her thighs and pushed them wider.
“Let it go,” I said.
I saw a little dribble, and she whimpered.
“All of it,” I said with a more commanding tone.
“She took quick breaths, nervous breaths, and I pressed more firmly on her
thighs.
“Please”, I asked, “I want to see you pee.”
With that encouragement she gasped, and a full golden stream flowed out from
between the folds of her body.
“Don't stop”, I begged.
She seemed to shiver at the words and the stream continued, I felt it hit my
skin, I held felt it to run down my stomach, I scooted closer to her and felt
the warm stream cover my cock with golden fluid. She opened her eyes and gasped
again as she saw her own stream covering my body.
With her free hand she began rubbing her clit, and I asked her if she wanted to
cum.
“Yes please! I want to cum.”
I stood up, my cock fully hard, my bladder pulsing just below the skin, I took
a deep breath and let it go
Her fingers circled her tight clit and she watched me twitch as my stream
started, hesitant at first, fighting its way through the hard shaft, but as I
cleared my head and closed my eyes, the flow was steady and strong.
It didn't take long for her to sit up, one hand furiously rubbing between her
legs, the other hand coming into my shaft to guide the golden stream to her chest,
soaking the thin white T-shirt until it was translucent, her nipples dark and
round showing through the fabric. As my stream slowed, she looked up at the
and said please, and she opened her mouth and guided the last few drops in.
“May I cum now Holly?” I asked.
She nodded and said “Yes.”
