A new friend over the fence

The sun is out, finally. Granted, it's going to rain again on Saturday, but for today, the clouds are gone, and my patio is warm. 

 The black fabric of my lounge chair stings against my bare skin of my shoulders for the first few seconds. The backs of my thighs twitch as they try to escape the heat, but my glutes and my lower back sigh and sink into the heat in blessed relief. I brought out my phone to watch a few videos to get things going, but the sun is directly in my face and the effort to hold my phone and block the sun are too much and defeat the purpose of the moment. 

I turn off the screen and set my phone down on the pile of clothes that puddle on the warm cement..

The sun warms my chest, my stomach, and my thighs.  I pull my knees up to my chest to stretch and move my legs. My thighs open, the sun warms the back of my legs, my crevice, putting sun "where the sun don't shine."  The sun reflects off the white plastic fence, filling in the shadows on my skin.

I laugh to myself at the old schoolyard insult and pull my knees apart further until I'm exposed to the healing rays. My blood begins to flow as my pucker warms in the sun.

Through the fence I can hear the children playing.  The fence is solid, no gaps, so even if they crawled up the 4 feet from their yard to the fence, they's still not be able to see anything inappropriate for young eyes.  I debate going back in, but my plans are quiet, personal, passionate, and none will be the wiser.

Their mom, Holly, is the new mom in the neighborhood, having just moved in three months ago.  It's nice to have the sound of children around.  The couple that moved out was sweet, but homebound, and finally had to move in with their oldest daughter.  They won't last long.  Wonderful, but old, and it was taking its toll.

I hear a thud, a moment of silence. and they the wails and tears of a 4-year-old that took a header.  I hear Holly scoop him up (I forget his name) and sit on the squeaky metal chare that Mike left behind in the move. She sings him a song and the crying mellows slowly until I hear her says that he can go inside and play for a bit. 

The sound of toys being put away are followed by the scrape of metal legs across the cement until I hear Holly drop into the chair and sigh.

I clear my through to let her know I'm there and ask, "Is everything OK?  Sounds like someone took a spill."

"I told him to put his shoes on," she said, her arching over the fence, "instead he tripped, stubbed his toe and hit the deck."

"Is he OK?"

"Nothing that an Otterpop and some Bluey can't fix."

"For my kids it was ice cream and power rangers," I laughed, "but that dates me with the dinosaurs."

"True," I could hear her sigh.

"Enjoying the sun?"

"It's wonderful." she said, "And you?"

"Loving every bit of it."

"Wanna come over?"

"I'd have to get dressed first."

"What?"  I heard her laugh.  "Don't tell me that you are....."

"Yes, I am." I felt flirty. "My backyard has one private spot."

"So, my new neighbor, who helped me move in and unpacked my lingerie box, is 5 feet away from me and totally naked?"

"Well, I'm wearing sunglasses."

"Sounds good."  She got very quiet.

I let the silence linger.

"What next?" she asked quietly.  Her voice came from a different spot, through the fence, not over, as if she had moved.

"Well...."

"Tell me." she whispered and the fence moved as if she was leaning up against it.

"Honestly?"

"YESsssss"

"I'm going to lay here naked, let my mind wander, and then touch myself."

"More."

"The hot sun makes it easy to get hard, I'll start to stroke, I'll tease and pause..."

"And then?"

"Then I'll cum, Holly, I'm going to have an orgasm right here."

"Now?"

"I'm ready if you are." I said, my heart pounding in my chest.  "What do you want?"

"I want to listen."

"I can't be loud."

"Call me.  You can whisper, I can hear."

"OK, but I need you to call me, this is your choice."

My phone rang seconds later.  I picked it off the pile of clothes and laid it on my chest.

"I'm completely hard." I giggled, "I didn't plan on having an audience."

"How often do you do this?"

"During the summer? about once a week.  Have you done it yet?  

"Outside?"

"I started to when I was playing in the pool," she paused, "but then John got home."

"And?"

"He made me start dinner."

"What an idiot."

"Agreed." Her voice shifted, "Tell me what you are doing."

"I'm talking to you."

"You know what I mean."

"Oh, you want to know if I'm hard?"

"Yes,"

"I'm hard, dripping, stroking."

"Who are you thinking about?"

"You."

"Really?  You don't know me."

"I've seen you in stretch pants."  I heard her laugh.

I moaned as I pulled a large drop out of my tip.

"What was that?" She asked, I could hear her over the fence.

"Shhhhhh," I teased, "I just pulled a big drop of cum off the tip."

"Taste it."

"Mmmmm, slippery, tasty, salty."

"Fuck...."

"Language!," I chided her, "you kiss your kids with that mouth."

"and other things." She giggled.

"unzip your shorts."

"My kids are just inside." she sounded nervous.

"I don't care."

"OK. - now what?"

"Stroke gently, outside your panties, be soft." I heard her moan.  "I'm rubbing my cock."

"Really?"

"Yesssss, " I said, "up and down, barely touching, imagining your lips.

"Where am I?"

"Kneeling in front of me, your hair covering my hips, my hands on the back of your head."

"Fill me up."

"Press on your clit, don't make a sound, press hard Holly."

Through the phone and over the fence I heard her gasp.

"Keep going Holly, small tight circles, over the fabric, open your mouth."

I positioned the phone by my mouth so my cute neighbor could hear it all.

"It feels so good, so hard, slippery wet, sticky, pulsing."

"Can I cum?" holly begged through the phone.

"No." I said, "it's my turn."

"Tell me more." 

"I'm standing over you, sliding in and out of your mouth Holly, PULL ME IN.

"Cum!" she whispers.

The sun, her voice, my hand pushed me over the edge, and I grunt and feel strand after strand splash on my chest and phone.

I struggle to catch my breath, gasping at the unexpected moment just shared.  

"Holly?" I whisper, "Holly?"

I stand up listen, but hear nothing until the voices of three little children brighten up the backyard.

"Daddy!!!"

I smile, hang-up, and head to the shower, dripping sweat and pleasure, having made a new friend.

Dear Friend

I miss you.

My house is empty, except for me, so, after finishing work, I stripped down and went in the backyard to water my new roses, my trimmed miniature orange tree, and various plants that may, or may not, be dying.

As I finished drenching my pomegranate tree, I walked along the side of the house and had a memory come flooding back to me.  It was leaning up against that small section of wall, hidden from the street, my neighbors, and the back yard, that I took my first intimate photograph of myself.

10 years ago, maybe?  I can't remember.  Bouts of misguided guilt and fear led me to delete the pictures and emails a long time ago, but I can't, won't, never will, delete your memory.

It was there, with the sun beating down on me, that I tied my cock up with the string from my pajama bottoms. Hard, pink, long, bigger than I could imagine, I showed myself to you for the first time.

My heart was pounding as I set my phone down on my log pile and tried to get a good angle.  I'm not a skinny guy, so I sucked in my gut and thrust out my hips and zoomed in.  And there it was, my cock in its digital glory.  I remember tapping out an email quickly, before I lost my nerve, and I hit send.

Holy fuck.  The orgasm that exploded after sending it to you is still a part of that moment's memory.  

TBH, that wasn't the first time you had seen my cock.  We encouraged each other over the months to show more, share more, and share, we did.  I remember, like it was yesterday, watching you cum, your eyes rolled back, your full breasts heaving with each breath, your knees spread, your fingers disappearing from view, deep between your beautiful thighs.

I lived for days off the compliments you gave me, adoring my cock, my cum, my stroking techniques and, more importantly, the words we shared. I lead you to orgasm after orgasm with simple words, softly spoken instructions, and sometimes harshly give directions.  You never failed me.

A favorite memory?  Watching you cum as you sat next to your husband as he watched TV.  You bit your lip, inhaled deeply, and I could see you sink into blissful oblivion while he sat not 2 feet away, completely oblivious to the beautiful, sexy, passionate, orgasmic woman that was begging for attention in his own home. 

I never felt sorry for you, you wouldn't let me.  We were friends, deep friend with digital benefits and today, I leaned up against that wall one more time, and thought of you, and marked the sun-ripened concrete with my cum.

We haven't talked in a few years.  Life moves on and pulls people apart and things change.  That's OK, but today, as I wandered my backyard naked, I thought of you, came for you, and smiled a deep and lasting smile.

Thank you for every memory.