Virgin
2004-09-25
Slice of Heaven , by Fyre
"Pops! Iβm going on a business trip to San Diego. I need you to watch my place for a couple days. Iβll be back at the end of the month. "
My son didnβt even speak to me in person. He left the message on the phone. He didnβt check with me to make sure I got it. Or that I didnβt have anything important to do. He just figured Iβd be the responsible one and take care of it for him.
I tried not to feel taken advantage of. I recently retired. I guess Kevin knew I didnβt have much to do. He had a new place on the lake. It was quieter than my place. Of course I wouldnβt mind going over there and house-sitting while he was gone. But I couldnβt help but think that I would have liked for him to ask.
I packed a light suitcase and tossed a few things in the car.
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After two hours of driving, I stopped at a grocery store. Kevinβs pantry would be stocked with some vintage wines and imported beer, but he wouldnβt have practical things on hand, like lunchmeat or milk. When I checked his fridge, sure enough, there was a jar of pickles and an old box of baking soda. That was it.
What Kevin needed was a nice, sensible girl. He was thirty. As he said, he was getting his financial house in order. He had an outstanding career as a legal analyst and a newly acquired home on the lake. He drove a Mustang and had a plasma screen TV. But I couldnβt help but wonder if there would one day be a backyard wedding or when the weight room would be replaced by a nursery. Kevin was definitely doing his own thing. Although he and I didnβt see eye to eye on a lot of things, I was proud of him.
I had to admit, his house was beautiful. It was a two-story with a big plate glass window off the kitchen upstairs and a sliding glass door off the dining room that led out onto a large wooden deck. The view of the lake was pristine.
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The last time I had been there, I noticed a family of wood ducks coming to maturity on the lake. I would enjoy watching them again, if they were still in the vicinity.
Kevin had potted plants of ivy hanging off the eaves of the house. I stood outside on the deck. Below the deck, Kevin had a small, tidy yard with a cement patio and a Weber grill. There was a thick hedge surrounding his backyard. It was a little slice of heaven.
The previous owner had scattered some perennial flowers in the flowerbeds under the spreading ferns. Now that it was Spring, the area was plush, green and gorgeous. Kevin had a hammock stretched between two sturdy trees. I wondered if he ever took the time to lay there and read. A wooden fence in the backyard opened to a paved path which followed the lake shore. In the cattails at the shallow edges of the lake, wild ducks dipped and bobbed for tadpoles and waterbugs. A breeze was blowing and the sun was going down.
From Kevinβs deck, I could see a half mile or so of the running track.
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I sat in the chair on the deck and admired a young lady who was running on the trail. She wore running shorts and a revealing t-shirt. She was a small, pretty girl with her hair pulled back in a band. I couldnβt help but watch her bounce along the track. After she passed, I reached for my bird binoculars and watched her fine, shapely ass. She was in excellent condition.
Kevin needed a fine young lady like that.
Kevin said he occasionally jogged around the lake (when he had the time). I wondered if heβd ever noticed this woman. Somehow I didnβt think so.
The next evening, I made a point of watching out the back window to see if the young lady would make another appearance. The track was relatively quiet. Then at sunset, there she was. Pretty, shapely, and apparently, a person of routine. I could make it a habit to sit and watch the birds at dusk.
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I focused my binoculars on the young runner. Today her t-shirt said "Nike. " That name seemed to suit her.
I began to refer to the sexy runner as "Nike" and to imagine that she had a busy life working at a desk all day. Her crisp, white shirts showed off her tan. She wore short shorts that revealed muscular, lean legs as she loped around the lake. She ran at a steady pace and didnβt seem to need to stop to take a breather, although she occasionally took a drought of water from the water bottle hooked to her waist. Her evening running seemed her escape from the pressures of the rest of what I imagined to be a stressful day.
Then one day, Nike surprised me. As she was passing the back yard, she ducked down and checked to the right and left. Assuring herself that no one could see her, she ducked down and pushed the wooden gate open. She slipped into Kevinβs backyard. I stood in the kitchen, peering out the window, wondering why Nike had come into the yard. I hardly cared, but was she going to do something spiteful in the yard? After all, I was supposed to be looking after Kevinβs place.
While I watched, she pulled down her shorts, squatted, and peed.
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How sweet! I stood and watched her, the stream of yellow disappearing into the thick grass.
She crouched a minute, while I assumed she let the last few drops fall into the grass, then she stood, pulling up her shorts. She looked around a minute, noting the pretty little flower beds and the protection of the hedge, then she opened the gate, peeked out, then resumed her run on the trail.
I went out on the deck to watch her vanish around the corner under a fir tree. I grinned, thinking of her pretty white bottom, with distinctive tan lines. What an ass!
I wondered if it would happen again. The next few days, she just loped around the track and I made myself scarce. I wanted to make sure she thought the house was abandoned. Maybe sheβd enter the yard again. I couldnβt help but fantasize about her enticing firm ass.
On the third day, she did another quick look-around, then ducked into the yard. I stood upstairs in the kitchen, my bird-watching binoculars focused on her. She came into the yard and sat, her knees pulled into her chest. Lost in thought. Staring at the small bed of flowers, enjoying the solitude.
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After that, Nike made this a habit. Almost every evening she opened the back gate and came inside to admire Kevinβs yard. She grew bold. Sometimes she even plucked straggly weeds that dared sprout inside his flower beds. I think she was watching the place, deciding whether the house was empty, which is what I wanted her to think. I became mostly a recluse, living for these few moments each evening when Nike stole into the yard and enjoyed Kevinβs little haven of privacy.
Then one day, she came in the afternoon. She was getting bolder and bolder. She brought a paperback and took off her shirt. She made herself at home, resting in the hammock. Her breasts were rather small and they bulged to the sides as she lay topless on her back tanning in the sun. I couldnβt believe my luck. I imagined myself sucking on those pert, pink nipples. I grew raging hard.
It took another couple of days before she peeled off all of her clothes before laying in the sun.
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She had a small triangular patch of black hair framing her pussy. Sometimes she would part her legs slightly and I could imagine myself down between those supple thighs lapping my tongue against her pink slit. I stood in the kitchen, binoculars on her beautiful body, and I admit it, I dropped my pants to the floor and started pounding my meat. While she slathered suntan oil across her smooth skin, I spurted a jet of cum onto the kitchen linoleum.
I was thrilled. And I wanted to thank Nike for providing me with such stimulating food for thought. I hadnβt been with a woman in three years. Not since my wife died.
The next morning, I drove into town and purchased a single rose. Before her run that evening, I placed it on the grass inside the gate.
When she came into the yard that night, I didnβt know what she would do. On the one hand, I wanted to let her know I was there and I appreciated her youthfulness and beauty. On the other hand, I was worried that if she knew I was aware of her, she would never come into the yard again.
She came into the yard. The single rose was the only sign Iβd let her see that anyone was in the house.
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She sat down on the hammock, and picked up the rose, breathing in its pure scent, and she lay down, holding it against her chest, her eyes closed.
I suppose she lay there thinking of some imaginary lover, some wonderful man who would leave her flowers in this immaculate, perfect yard. I suppose she imagined what kind of gentleman knew she was coming into the yard. I donβt know for sure. I do know that when she sat up and started taking her clothes off, even knowing that the rose might be specifically for her, I was so excited, I could scarcely breathe. I stood watching, goosebumps all over my arms.
She lay her clothes on the grass and placed the perfect pink rose on top of the pile. Then, as I watched in amazement, she situated herself on the hammock so that anyone inside the house would have a perfect view of her naked body. With my binoculars, I had a flawless view of that gorgeous pussy. She had accepted the flower, then I guess she decided to give me a little treat for not making her leave the yard. She picked up the single rose and started brushing her smooth pussy with the gentle, plush petals of the flower.
My dick sprang out against the confines of my jeans. Iβm telling you, I lost no time in taking off my pants and stretching my seven inch cock out as far as it would go. I was totally absorbed watching her stroking her soft pussy with the rose petals, every movement magnified a hundred times. As she got more aroused, I marveled as she licked her fingers, stretched her legs almost behind her head, she was so limber and bent forward and started rubbing her clit.
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I stroked my dick, matching her pace. She knew I was watching, or at least that I might be watching. She must have wondered what kind of voyeur I was. Was I young and handsome? Was I older and married? Why did I not reveal myself to her?
I canβt tell you how much a turn-on it was for me to watch her tight muscles flex as she pleasured herself directly below me. I came in no time at all, my jizz jetting all over my clothes on the floor. I didnβt care. She petted her pussy, stretching and parting her pussy lips. She wet her fingers, then pushed glistening fingertips into her cunt. With her heels behind her head, she watched her fingers slowly disappear then reappear from her depths. I heard her call out as she started to climax and she covered her face as she came. I wished I was between those legs lapping up all those juices. My dick was throbbing. I still had semen leaking from the tip.
I wished she was crouching on her knees licking me off. I imagined my jizz raining all over her face, Nike holding her tongue out, trying to catch it all.
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After she left, I showered. I got hard again. I laid down in my bed, remembering the pink rosebud in her hand, the other pink rosebud of her anus, and all the folds and crevices on the expanse between and I jacked off again. My mind was full of pictures of what Iβd seen and I couldnβt help but imagine what might happen again.
The next day, I lost no time in going to town. I stopped at the adult novelty store, and I got her several toys. One was a jelly purple dildo. The other was a pocket rocket. I purchased her a dozen of the pink roses. At the house, I pulled babyβs breath up around the packages, trying to incorporate them into the bouquet. It looked a little tacky, but I didnβt care. What the hell! She could use the backyard however she wanted.
When she saw the silly bouquet, she threw her head back and started laughing. She pulled the dildo out and her mouth hung open. Okay, so maybe I should have gotten her one a little smaller, but I couldnβt know what size would appeal to her.
She took out the pocket rocket, fired it up. She pressed the vibrations against the palm of her hand, fiddled with the speed control, then opened her legs and pressed it humming against the crotch of her running shorts. She pushed the crotch to the side and I could see that she wasnβt wearing any panties, and she started playing the pulse of the vibrator against the stiff bud of her clit. After a few minutes, she turned off the toy. She took her clothes completely off, knelt on the bench, her ass bent towards the window where I was watching. She spit on the purple dildo and stroked it against her pretty lips. Then she teased her vagina open and her mouth formed a perfect "O" as she slid the beast inside. She teased the entrance to her vagina, sinking the latex head inside, then taking it out and licking off her tart pussy taste, then inserting it again. She rocked the dildo in and out of that warm, opening, inviting me to watch by spreading her legs wide and bouncing down on the dildo until she took it up to the balls. With her other hand, she cupped the pocket rocket tight against her clit. I could imagine the vibrations speaking to the sexual goddess inside of her.
Thereβs something amazing about watching the transformation of Nike, my sweet, young runner into a sexual creature hungry to release that tension in her loins. The gentleness of the initial teasing gradually dissipated into thrusting strokes as she rode the fake dick and started to cry out with pleasure. She rolled on her back, her legs splayed and the purple toy thrusting in and out, the smaller vibrator pressed tightly against her clit. She was in such good shape and she became so uninhibited, doing everything she needed to do to reach a full orgasm right while I was watching.
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With her legs wide, she tore up that pussy. I watched her angle the dildo so that it would push hard against her g-spot and she dropped the pocket rocket. It fell spinning on the ground as she started to cum. She exchanged the mechanical purr of a machine with the flip, flip, flip of her thumb and forefinger rubbing abrasively against her clitoris. She arched her back and I could see the throes of passion ebbing and waning, her body tensed, then she called out "Oh, oh, oh Fuck!" and melted against the cushion of the chair.
My erection twitched and I spurted all over, my cum dribbling down like a melting candle.
Quite awhile afterwards, I noticed the red message light beckoning to me from the phoneβs answering machine.
"Pops! Iβll be home tomorrow. Is there anyway you could meet me at the airport? My plane lands at 3pm. "
Shit! I felt like Iβd lost something precious. I tried not to feel depressed that my exclusive shows were coming to an abrupt end. I hardly slept that night, reveling in the luscious memories of those few weeks and my little Nike stealing into the yard. I smiled at the thought of how Kevin might jack off in the weeks ahead once he discovers her stealing into his yard. I wondered if he would step out on the deck and introduce himself. Nike and stuffy old Kevin.
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. . How sweet! Might be just what the doctor ordered.
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There was another phone message on my machine at my home about a week later. "Pops! What the hell happened while I was gone? I guess there was this little bitch of a gal coming into my yard to have sex. Last night, she left her thong panties in the flowerbed out back! Like a freakinβ souvenier! I called the police but I guess this wasnβt a priority. Iβm going to have to get a security system to keep these losers out of my yard! Call me. "
Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. I shook my head and buried my face in my hands.
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