my neighbors and me (pt3)
That week passed agonizingly slow. I busied myself tending to my vegetable garden, everyday chores and hopping on xhamster every once in a while to help relieve the sperm build up in my balls. Nothing I did could take my mind off of next Friday and the chance to spend an evening with my two hot, sexy neighbors.
It was Thursday around noon time and I was checking out the vegetable garden. The green beans were prolific this year and I had to pick the ripe ones before they grew too large. I was working the second row when I heard Deb’s voice.
“Hey, Tom, how are they growin?” I looked up toward the sound of her voice and shuddered. There was Deb, dressed in the skimpiest bikini I’d ever seen. A tiny pink strapless bra top and matching thong bottoms. She had brought out her chaise lounge chair preparing to enhance her tan. I smiled broadly and told her “Oh, they’re getting bigger every day.”
“I’m going to catch some rays for a while.” She shook her head and wrapped her long hair into a pony tail. “Hey, you’re still comin’ over tomorrow, right?” I wanted to tell her that I was almost cumin’ right now but instead reassured her that I would be. “I’ll bring some of these fresh beans for dinner.” I said, my eyes glued to that sweet, sexy bikini clad body.
Deb smiled back. “OK great.” she said and proceeded to lay face down on the chaise, her feet pointed toward me. She spread her legs slightly to get the maximum sun on her inner thighs. The thong almost disappeared completely between her firm, tight ass cheeks. I must have missed a couple of quarts of pickable beans gazing at that sun kissed body. I tried to focus on my task, but just then Deb reached behind her back and undid the bra clasp of her bikini. It didn’t come free right away and she had to raise up and use both hands to unsnap it. I had my second glimpse of those perky, young C-cup titties. That was it for me. I had to go inside and cool off.
I went inside, washed the beans, drained them and put them in the fridge. Tomorrow would never come I thought to myself. I made a simple supper for myself and spent the evening watching stupid sit-com reruns on TV. I fell asl**p on my sofa dreaming of the delights that may greet me tomorrow.
I woke at 6am, stiff (in more ways than one) from sl**ping on the sofa. Stumbling into the kitchen, I made coffee and a couple of eggs for breakfast. Today was Friday. THE DAY! My spirits jumped. I had to get ready. Following my usual morning routine, I finished breakfast, cleaned up the dishes and headed upstairs for a shower. I decided to trim my beard a little, make it a little neater for my girls. I chuckled to myself at the thought that they were “my girls.” Having finished the beard trim I glanced down at my cock, which was still semi-erect from the erotic dreams of last night. I thought to myself “What the hell,” and decided to shave my balls. It was risky business but I went ahead and did it.
Four o’clock finally came around. I was due over at Sarah’s at 6. I still a few things to do to be ready for my “date”. I showered again and got dressed, deciding that hopefully I wouldn’t need underwear. Khaki pants, blue sport shirt and a brown sport coat completed my ensemble. Earlier that afternoon I had purchased a bottle of my favorite Merlot to give as a hostess gift. I was ready to go, but first I needed something to make sure the evening went right. “Yeah,” I said aloud with no one around to hear me. I went to the cupboard and removed my bottle of Viagra. Now I want you to understand that I don’t really need it, but I am 63 and well, you know sometimes a man needs a little help. So I took two, risking permanent injury and hoping for an erection lasting more than four hours. My last task before heading next door was to roll a big fat doobie. I didn’t know if either one of them ever got high but like a good Boy Scout, I thought “Be Prepared.”
I slipped the joint into a cigar sleeve and tucked it into my jacket pocket. Retrieving the beans from the fridge and the wine from the table I headed next door.
It took several seconds from the time I rang the bell for Sarah to answer the door, but when she did she nearly took my breath away. Dressed in a red satin blouse, short tight straight skirt, and black patent leather spiked heels that had to be at least 4” high, all I could do was mumble out “Hi, Sara.” She smiled widely and said “Oh, you’re a little early, but that’s ok. Come on in, I’m just setting the table.” I regained a little of my composure and told her that she looked breathtaking. Again she smiled and said “Why thank you, Sir.”
I followed her into the kitchen and it was then that I realized just how hot she looked. As she turned to tend to the wonderfully aromatic pot roast, I saw that her stockings were seamed with Cuban heels. Her shoes had two delicate chains across the instep, and her skirt had a six inch slit in the back. As she bent into the oven to check our dinner I caught a glimpse of stocking top, reassuring me that she wasn’t wearing pantyhose. (I hate pantyhose). Of course, my loins stirred at the sight and I had to rearrange myself to keep from being too obvious.
“Tom, why don’t you open the wine while I start the beans. Deb and I both just adore fresh beans.” She went to the drawer and handed me a corkscrew for the wine. The pan she wanted to use for the beans was on the top shelf of her cupboard. “Dammit,” Sarah blurted, “I can never reach this damn pan, can you help me?” I walked next to her, she was still trying to reach the pan. I had to press very close to her to reach it. Her fragrance was intoxicating. I managed to grab the handle and in pulling it off the shelf it fell to the floor.
We both stooped to pick it up, she was a little faster and I found myself in the line of sight of her glorious cleavage. Sarah paused momentarily and looked up at me smiling. “I got it.” she said, but didn’t immediately stand up. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone and she waited long enough for me to get an eyefull of the tops of her massive orbs.
We stood up together, but never lost eye contact. Now it was her turn to stammer, “I’d better get these beans going, the pot roast will be done in a few minutes.” I sat back at the table and uncorked the wine. “Where’s Deb?” I asked as casually as I could. ‘Oh, she’s upstairs getting ready; you know how teenagers are.”
Just then, down the stairs comes Deb. She rushed into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Sarah. “Sarah, I just love the new shoes you bought me. Thank you, thank you.” she pranced over to my side of the table. “Tom,” she giggled as she spoke, “Do you like them?”
I gulped. The shoes Sarah bought for her 18 year old stepdaughter were red, shiny red and a spiked heel a full 5 inches high. In addition to the heels, Deb had selected a pair of sheer, white over the knee stockings, a very short kilt type red and black paid skirt, and a tight “Love Pink” tube top. Her hair was styled in pigtails and her makeup would have been appropriate for a high class hooker. I knew right then that this was going to be one hell of a night.
(continued real soon)
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