You know, when my wife told me she’d let our ‘granny flat’ to a student she’d met at the beauty salon I was annoyed. I like my privacy, and we didn’t need the money. Things didn’t improve when you arrived either. You acted like you owned the place – noisy, untidy – I felt as if my territory had been invaded and I resented it. There is no way I thought we would end up fucking. Let’s face it, you’re a scruffy dresser, and you didn’t do much to make me pay attention. One thing I did notice early on though was that you had that hypnotic way of swaying your arse as you walked, like you just walked in from Copacabana beach. Oh, and you had a way of smiling that was somewhere between an invitation and a challenge. Well, okay, if I’m honest, I guess I did start to fantasize about you pretty early on.
The day it all started was so hot, wasn’t it? My wife had gone up to London for the day and I had work to do, but in the heavy, humid air it was hard to settle to it. After an hour or so I glanced out the window of my first-floor study, just as you walked into the garden in a tiny bikini. You spread a towel and started to oil yourself with sun-tan lotion. I thought I might as well watch and get some compensation for having you around. Okay, now I know you were playing me like a fish on a line – but I swear I didn’t realise it then.
Do you remember how you took so long over the sun tan lotion? You covered your arms, legs and neck, smoothing the oil in with long, caressing movements of your hands. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, stiffening in my pants as I watched the way you massaged the oil into your thighs and stomach. It looked like your hand was slipping under the edges of your bikini bottoms on some of the strokes. You were touching the edges of your pussy, weren’t you, but I tried to tell myself that perhaps you were just making sure you didn’t burn if the material moved a little. I broke away and tried to resume my work, but I couldn’t settle and kept glancing out. You seemed restless too in the remorseless heat, tossing and turning on the sunbed. Ten minutes on I gave up. It was far too hot to think straight, and opportunities like this one don’t come often. A guy has to try.
I pulled on a pair of bathing trunks and a loose shirt, grabbed two beers, and walked out to you, asking if you needed to cool down. As you sat up, your breasts wobbled heavily inside the flimsy top. You gave me that smile as you caught me glancing down. There was already a sheen of sweat on you from the heat. I passed you the can and watched as you swallowed, letting a few drops spill over your chin, then held the cold can between your breasts. The condensation dripped down in a tiny rivulet, across your taut oily skin.
My cock was stirring inside my trunks. It was probably infantile of me, but I had to break the ice, and maybe I was trying to get back in charge of things. Anyway, I grabbed the garden hose which was lying nearby and turned it on. “There’s a quicker way to cool off,” I said, aiming it towards you. When you shrieked and jumped away I thought you were really annoyed, but I’d caught you with the icy stream and it was clear that bikini wasn’t made for swimming. When I saw it clinging to you like transparent gauze I wasn’t about to stop the game. Soon, you were running round the garden, with me chasing, catching you now and then with the blast of water. Your nipples really stiffen when they are cold, don’t they? And all the time, your wet, pale skin gleamed like gold in the sunlight.
Then you slipped on the wet grass and fell. I took my chance and stood over you, using the water jet to spray your belly and then moving it to aim directly at you pussy, using the force of the spray to tuck the thin cotton into your crack. You kicked me hard behind the knee and I fell onto you. Now we were fighting for the hose, your tits squeezed against my chest as you struggled. You sounded breathless as I finally managed to hold you down, using my body weight, with my cock pressing into your thighs. You looked me straight in the eye – a challenge again. I think we both knew a decision had been made. “The shower inside would be more comfortable”, I said, rolling off you. You stood without a word and walked to the house, glancing back to check me staring at your buttocks, which were openly revealed by the bikini which had now ridden half-way up the cheeks. The sight drew my eyes, and I knew exactly what I needed from you.
The shower room is large, with a drain in the floor so none of those restrictive panels are needed. I switch on the warm flow of water and turn back to see you smiling as you slip off your bikini top. At the sight of your full, round tits I feel rooted to the spot, but I start to move as soon as you smile and said “You can do the rest”. I take some shower gel and work it between my hands. I bring them up to cup your breasts, squeezing them and letting the firm round flesh slip between my fingers, lubricated by the soap. I run my hands over you, in sweeping circles, leaving a trail of suds. Dropping to my knees, I slip my fingers into the waistband of your pants and draw them down. With a shock I realise you are almost completely shaved, your lips blatantly revealing themselves and already a little swollen. I brush my mouth across your mound as I stand again, then draw you under the shower, and stand back to watch as the water forms droplets on your oiled skin. I take my trunks off, letting you see the effect you are having on me, then step forward to press my cock against your soapy belly and embrace you, my arms now reaching around to take hold of those full arse cheeks you offered to my eyes a few minutes before.
As I start to kiss you, I reach for the gel again and start to cleanse you, moving my hands over you buttocks, and then between them, finding your small, tight anus with my fingertips. I pull one of your buttocks to the side whilst my other hand works along the crack between your cheeks, my soapy finger running gently up and down across your anus. You don’t resist me. As my tongue enters your mouth, I let my forefinger focus on the rim of that other darker opening, round and round, helping you to soften and relax, then slipping just inside you, bringing the scented gel within the lips of your passage. Now I can feel your own hands, tiny, gentle, beginning to explore my cock and balls, rubbing soap into me so that my cock slithered between your fingers like a fish.
After a few moments of caressing you, I let you lean against the wall of the shower. Taking the shower head from its hook I begin to play the stream of water between your legs, running it over the lips of your shaved quim, aiming from side to side, so the force of the warm spray open each side of you in turn. I turn you round, so that the jet can squirt across your anus. Again I soap my hands, to work more suds into you, cleaning you, making you sweet. You seemed to know what I want, and push yourself back a little against my finger so that this time it slips easily inside your arsehole. Again, I run the water across to hose you off, this time letting the jet play right into your anal hole. Finally, I switched the water off. It is time to explore you further.