That Beautiful Summer’s Evening [M42][F27][F35] Part 1

That beautiful summers evening is one that will remain in my memory forever. It was the end of a glorious June day, the sun had been out, and the remnants of the day’s warmth were being gently pushed away on the light breeze. My wife, Bethany, had turned in early after we had put the children to bed, and I had taken the opportunity to sit in our small garden with a beer and a joint, watching the fluffy clouds pass slowly across the sky and the neighbour’s washing flutter on the line. The stress of the day leaked away gradually with each delicious lung full of the purple haze. I closed my eyes, enjoying the buzz and the sounds of the evening approaching. The birds calling to each other as they find a roost, the odd passing car, then gentle laughter of people far away, and I smiled to myself. Life was good.

Our small garden was bounded by the back of our house, two high fences either side, and with trees and bushes providing sparse but adequate cover from the rear neighbours’ upper windows, up to the low fence at the rear. I was nicely isolated from prying eyes, in fact the only possible way I could be seen was through the gaps in the bushes to the rear neighbour’s washing line. Now this washing line was continuing to catch my attention. Along with a few T-shirts, jeans, and children’s clothes closer to the wall of their house, there were a collection of bras and knickers, which fluttered gently at the end of the line closest to me. Their movement kept catching my eye like the signal flags of an old sailing ship. But so did the black lace. And the sheen of the blue satin. And the red Basque with the ribbons. And the long gossamer stockings, pinned to the line with their toe ends so the thigh bands danced seductively. There were a few everyday t-shirt bras in there too. This looked very much a full week’s worth or underwear airing right in front of me. For five long minutes my eye kept returning to the delicate. For they were indeed all delicate. I began to imagine them being worn. And being taken off, maybe even being shown off, I began to wonder if my neighbour had been wearing them to garner the attention of her husband, were they for him? Did she go to the gym wearing them, on the school run, maybe she was a camgirl or had and Onlyfans page and sat around playing with herself in them all day? Or maybe they were just for her, maybe she simply enjoyed how pretty they made her feel?

I had a growing sense of shame that tried to bring balance to the erotic thoughts playing through my mind. It began to bubble, was this an invasion of privacy, or was I just projecting my own fantasies on my innocent neighbours? My pulse had quickened with the mild paranoia from the weed and that I might get caught looking at her intimate underwear, like the worst kind of desperate pervert. The blood moving to my crotch may confirm this suspicion too, and I squeezed the tip of my penis to try to keep him at bay.

Following a deep drag of my joint. A pause. Then a long exhale, I took a long swig of my beer in a vain attempt to calm the growing noise in my mind. Cassie and Steve were a couple of late twenty-somethings that had moved into her parent’s old home after her father had died and her mother decided to move permanently to her holiday home in Spain. The had brought a young girl of around four years old with them and added a baby boy to their nuclear family shortly after they arrived a year ago. Steve was a used car salesman, a successful one, but also a stereotypical one. Loud, brash, overweight and flash. He worked long hours and Cassie was a stay-at-home mum.

On the days I worked from home, we would sometimes be leaving the house at the same time for the school run and would exchange pleasantries and enquire after each other’s kids, but other than the odd conversation with my wife over the back fence, there was no socialising. Steve didn’t drink and had flat-out rejected our offers to pop round when we were barbequing shortly after they arrived. He seemed distant and arrogant, the fancy new cars he borrowed from work did little to dispel the image of him thinking he was better than the neighbourhood. Cassie seemed lovely, fifteen years my junior, but friendly and personable and attractive.

My wife, it seemed, had taken something of a dislike to the pretty brunette and her husband though, maybe it was the shameless way she aired her smalls, or the fact her smalls were so much smaller than my wife’s? Not so much the clothes size, they seemed from my passing glances, to be a similar curvy shape, but the style was very different from those my wife chose. No, that couldn’t be it, my wife would have certainly mentioned if she had noticed this most salacious collection in our neighbour’s garden for the whole world to see. It was very different from her collection of Spanx, full-back cotton and plain, frill-free bras designed to minimise and hide Bethany’s considerable assets. No, I think my wife was maybe a little jealous of her confidence. Maybe it was just the idea that my wife thought that they thought they were better than us.

Beth had been to the same school as Steve, he was three years younger than her, they had only interacted half a dozen times during that time, but she remembered his older brother from her year group and their parents. They had been known as having an alcoholic mother, which possibly explained Steve’s disdain for drinking. She also remembered him being full of himself back then too.

Cassie was two years younger than Steve and Beth only remembered her as a little snot-nosed girl who used to hang around trying to be cool sometimes while they were growing up.

The sudden noise of a door opening and closing from the house behind ours snapped my head to the left and brought me quickly away from my thoughtful reverie. I was midway through a delightful joint and didn’t want to be discovered sat here enjoying my illicit herb in nothing but my pyjama pants with the sun on my bare chest. But alas, the sound of Cassie sniffing the breeze and the tut that followed revealed she was aware someone was having a cheeky smoke.

Bollocks, this could be trouble. Cassie turned from closing her back door and began to collect the washing from her line into the large plastic basket by her feet. She hadn’t seen me, yet. I had an instinct to bolt for my back door, but surely, she would see the movement. But then my mind was made up. I caught sight of how she was dressed and decided that as a grown man, I could enjoy my own garden as I chose. She had her glasses pushed up onto the top of her head with her long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, I could see the gentle slope of her bare tanned shoulders. Tanned from their recent holiday abroad that she had gushed about to Beth just last week. Two weeks of luxury by a pool in Tenerife had done nothing to dampen my wife’s jealousy. We had both had to work the half-term holidays, not them, no, they had enjoyed the break and made sure my wife knew all the details of how amazing it was.

But it was the long vest top that had caught my eye. Only a vest top. None of the usual; leggings, yoga pants, or even jeans. Just the thin black material of a longline vest. The fabric was taught over her frame and hugged her gentle womanly curves, pulled tight in all the right places, to stop just an inch or two below an incredible big round arse. Her long bronzed, lightly toned thighs dropped from below the hem and fell with the grace of a former dance into the sliders that she shuffled the basket along the floor with. She was a shapely woman, Rubens would have loved to sculpt her form, probably as much as I enjoyed drinking it in. Cassie folded each garment carefully before dropping it, and on to the next. Every stretch and bend testing the limits of the material and confirming that she was braless. Beautifully unbound. Free. And particularly jiggly with the hint of nipple under the taught material, the low scoop of the neckline revealed the top of a delightful cleavage.

Edging ever closer to the waist high open board fence separating our properties. It offered some idea of a boundary, but I could still see through it. If she looked this way, I would be spotted. I was still, nothing moved but the curl of blue smoke from the end of my joint moved, snaking its way skywards and onto the breeze.

I was frozen stiff, between the horror of being caught smoking the illicit weed by my holier-than-thou neighbour and the illicit delights of catching someone unaware and more exposed than they would like to be. My eyes uncontrollably drifted back up from the pair of leggings that landed in the basket, up a supple looking calf muscle. To a tattoo came into view as she turned, it looked like a snake. A collection of snakes winding around and up the front of her thigh. It was Medusa head, with a full head of hair-snakes, she was staring right at me, Medusa. Her detailed, well drawn beautiful face with the fanged snarl and the penetrating eyes captured me. The snakes writhing up that beautiful smooth skin, up and under the hem of the simple vest top. Turned me to stone, right there in my garden.

A piece of my human brain clicked back alive. The lizard brain over-ridden for now. My shame flared again, here I was perving hard at my neighbour, becoming aroused by the flesh on show and the tease of what delights were still hidden, and the survivor meaning of the tattoo was not lost on me. I’d seen it before on an old friend who was the victim of sexual violence, and right now, I was the predator. I wanted nothing more than to pounce and take her. Shame burned deep and I turned away. I couldn’t watch any more. No matter how enthralling the scene, she was an innocent, she was much younger than me, I was nothing more than a creepy old man devouring this young lady in the privacy of her own garden. She should be free to do as she wished, hidden away in her own oasis of calm. I had no right, none at all. I was an arsehole. I was a grown man, a gentleman, not some thigh rubbing drooling beast and this lady deserved better. The breath I hadn’t realised I was holding escaped into the early evening air, along with the shame and disappointment in myself, louder than I wanted or expected and I froze again at the short surprised squeak from the other side of the fence.

“Oh! Shit!” Cassie exclaimed, as she jumped back knocking her basket over and almost falling over backwards “Damnit Jake, you gave me the fright of my life! I hadn’t seen you there but thank God it’s only you!” Only me… indeed, what if it was some base level predator or something?

“Oh, yes, erm, Hi Cassie…” I paused, stunned, caught. Joint in hand, bulge in my pants, head full of filthy, dirty thoughts. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you…” I tailed off again. “I was just, erm, getting some air, you know?” God! I hope she didn’t know. She let out a nervous, relieved giggle.

“I thought you were some creep, preying on young vulnerable women. I thought you were some dope-smoking-fiends going to steal my washing!” Her nervous laugh that followed belied the tension in her. She had no idea how close she was to the truth.

“I, erm, no, erm I wouldn’t do that.” I lied “Sorry again, didn’t mean any trouble…” I tailed off again and swigged down a large gulp from the bottle of lager. Although stealing her washing was close to the last thing on my mind, the thought of possessing something that had been so close to her soft skin now forced it’s way to the top of the pile of depraved thoughts.

“It is you though, isn’t it?” Cassie asked, “I thought I could smell weed, I thought those kids that have been hanging around had come back again.”

“Erm, yer, not the kids, sorry, I’ll put it out, didn’t want to disturb anyone…” I said sheepishly into the floor. I moved to stub out the joint.

“Oh no! Don’t do that on my behalf, I’m sorry I’m disturbing your peace and quiet, I know how hard it is to find an escape. I don’t mind one bit now I know it’s you.” She paused, hand on her shapely hip, and took a big breath in, “I really miss that smell” She blurted out as she flushed further and abruptly turned to up end her washing basket.

Boom.

Right there. Facing away from me, she bent quickly at the waist and reached for the basket and the spilled clothes. My base level perv instinct overcame my shame and moral outrage and my eyes locked onto the back of her taught thighs, and the outline of her wide hips, and the rising hem of her vest. My breath caught again as I inadvertently and very willingly violated her with my eyes. The hem stopped just below her arse, snagged, and straining on the curve of her cheek.

This had to stop. I was a turned head away from a phone call to the police and immediate arrest. I stood quickly; my usual calm confidence shaken by the situation I had found myself in. Embarrassed, flustered and caught. She stood and turned to face me.

“Do you need a hand with that?” I blurted out without knowing what I was saying. She paused. Oh god, I was done for, she was going to call the police. What the fuck was I doing? Trying to divert attention from my deep sense or humiliation, trying to recover some sense of being a gentleman? No, I was just trying to ignore that fact that here I was, a half-naked 42year old guy, caught staring at my younger neighbour, while I was illegally smoking cannabis.

“No thanks, I’ve got it,” Her eyes scanned the remaining items on the washing line, only her underwear remained. ‘Fuck! You absolute dickhead,’ I thought, ‘there’s no way I can ever look this girl in the face ever again.’

“Don’t want you going even more red than you are, do we…” she said with the beginning of a grin

I hadn’t noticed the bright blush that had spread across my face and chest, but I suppose it was only natural after being caught re-handed. I began to stammer something unintelligible. “But maybe I can help you with that.”

No, there was no way she just said that. A line from a cheesy porn film? But yes, right out there in the open. She had asked that. My mouth hung open as my brain struggled to process anything anymore.

“Would you mind if I,” she took a couple of paces towards the fence and whispered conspiratorially, “Would you mind if I maybe, erm, had a drag of that?” The world had stopped turning a few minutes ago, but now it shuddered as I caught up with what she had intended. “It’s been ages since I had any weed, you know, Steve doesn’t like it, he says it’s only whores and wasters that smoke it, so I had to give it up.”

My mouth kicked into gear before my brain, “What, give up being a whore?”

Dickhead, I cursed internally.

I froze again, now I’d really done it. Her eyes went wide.

“Hahahaha,” her head rocked backed and her laughter burst out through the quiet of the evening, and my tension. “Hahahah, yes, that as well!” her laugh was a delight to hear.

“Here, please, of course you can.” I took an unsteady step towards the fence, off the stone paving onto the loose soil, my untied trainers sinking in slightly as I closed the distance to the timber barrier. I extended my arm and offered the half of the joint. She reached out to take it with a delicately manicured hand, nails shaped to a short, claw-lie rounded point, and the red shellac matching the deep red of her full stained lips. I had to remind myself to breath. I was a bumbling mess. But this shared infraction was my way out.

The un-toked joint had burned out over the last few minutes, and I pulled the lighter from the pocket of my loose pyjamas to spark it back to life. She held it to her mouth as she cupped her other hand around the flame and over my hand as the flame touched the end. She inhaled, deep and slow. Electricity crackled up my arm at her warm touch.

“Yes, I used to smoke a whole lot, back when I was a wild teenager.” She confessed as she exhaled a lungful of pungent blue smoke, “back when life was fun.” Her eyes sparkled and I was captivated once more. I didn’t say anything. I still couldn’t. She took another big drag. “But he’s not here, out again, at the gym, apparently.” She stopped and looked at me. “I mean, who goes the gym at this time on a Friday?” I still didn’t say anything. Steve hadn’t stuck me as the gym going type. He was a big lad, soft around the middle, not exactly muscle bound. I just held her gaze. “I bet Beth doesn’t leave you alone on a Friday night?” She asked almost nonchalantly.

“Well, actually, she’s gone up to bed, either she’ll be fast asleep or scrolling Intsta, so, there you go…” I offered a smile that I hope showed some empathy to her situation.

“Terrible, both of us abandoned, eh? Well, this almost makes up for it.” She gestured with the last quarter of the joint. “I was hoping it was you,” she continued, “We’ve been smelling weed all the time since we’ve moved in. Steve has been moaning about the state of the neighbourhood…”

“Oh, god, sorry!” I stammered, “I didn’t realise you guys would smell it. I try to keep it after the kids are in bed, I thought I’d got away with it. Sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, he moans about everything, all the time. We had to move in here because we couldn’t afford anything else. I guess he feels trapped. He thinks he should be in the ‘better’ part of town. Too many council houses round here, he thinks. I don’t think he gets it that this is where I grew up. He can be such a stuck-up prick at times.” My gaze followed the spliff to her plump lips and with a final long drag she handed it back; the roach had a faint hint of red lipstick. I at once put it to my mouth and took a drag. I felt her watching me, as I had watched her, as I tipped my head back and blew out into the sky. I was very conscious that I was still bare-chested and in my pyjamas.

“It’s great to have someone to chat to,” Cassie started while I took another hit, “I hardly get any adult conversation since we’re back. Steve’s always working, or out with clients, or at the gym or something these days. We rarely get to go out anymore, my friends are too far away to see regularly, and Steve doesn’t like them much anyway, He says they’re just a bunch of sluts!” he voice was indignant “I mean, they were fine when he’d come out clubbing with us, but that was before the kids, you know, I guess he just thinks I’ve got fat and boring.”

Even stoned, I recognised someone needing a compliment. “Are you kidding me? You’re gorgeous! You have a stunning figure. He’s a fool for not appreciating a beautiful young thing like you!” Her hands crossed in front of her to cover her tummy, obviously the area she thought least off, but the demurring move only served to accidentally push her impressive boobs together and further enhanced the wonderful cleavage. Her eyes turned down and away from me, she was clearly embarrassed, and vulnerable, I had to stop my outburst from becoming awkward, only honesty would do. “Look, things change in a relationship when you add kids and the extra responsibility to a relationship, hell, I know! Me and Beth went through a rough patch a few years ago. But eventually, we worked through it. Things get easier as the kids get older, you’ll get more time together and feel more you again, you know.” I tailed off, I barely knew this girl, she didn’t need to know the ins and outs and complications of my marriage, but I felt she needed to be given a boost and the hope that this situation with the man she loved was only temporary.

“Well, thank you, that’s nice to hear but I try my best…” her voice quavered a touch “I try to keep looking pretty for him, I even bought this nice lingerie the other day I put it on for when he came home from work but all that did was make him angry about me wasting money. He just told me to cover up and spend more time keeping the house tidy and looking after the kids. He barely looked at me…” Her puppy dog eyes filled with tears, and I thought she was about to cry. I reached out over the fence and rested my free hand on her shoulder to offer some comfort. She stiffened, but quickly relaxed into my touch. Her eyes moved to look at my hand, tracked up my arm then flicked up to lock onto my own, she blinked away the tear and looked at me from under heavy lids. She drew a big collecting breath which pushed her swelling cleavage out towards me, the vest top failed miserably to hide the now stiff peaks of her nipples trying to cut through it. I struggled to keep eye contact and reluctantly pulled my had away.

“A girl still has her needs, and I’m sure you’re a fabulous mother. I’ve seen you with your kids, you’re doing an amazing job, being shunned like that is no fun, you deserve better.” I said firmly. “Talk to him, if you’re worried, let him know how you feel, get him to tell you what he needs. Communication is the only way you’ll get that happiness back.”

“You’re right I do. I’m going to have to tell him. I’m going to jump his bones as soon as he walks through the door. Just shove him against the wall and have him.” I gulped at the brazenness of it. The image of her doing exactly that caused my cock to twitch. “Anyway, I’d better get this washing in.” She smiled broadly and turned abruptly back towards the line, with a renewed spring in her step “I Don’t want some drug fuelled pervert nicking it now do I?” She added with a playful chuckle looking over her shoulder at me with a cheeky wink. “God only knows what they’d do with it!” This was not the evening I had planned, and most definitely not the outcome I had expected just a few short minutes ago.

Cassie reached for the black lacy bra, furthest from me along the line, unclipped the peg, gently folded the cups into each other and lowered it onto the pile. I was leaning on the fence, toking on the remains of the joint. Openly watching. Taking in every elegant movement. Every gentle sway of hip, and the hypnotic jiggle of boob as she reached again for the washing on the line. This time the matching lace thong.

“I was hoping it was you, you know.” She said as she bent once more and placed the folded thong neatly on top of the bra.

“Huh?” My most cutting and intellectual remark of the evening.

“The one having the cheeky smoke. I hoped it would be you.” She collected the blue satin number and absent-mindedly ran a fingernail over the smooth fabric as she thoughtfully said, “I enjoy talking to you, you’re a good listener, you always pay attention, you wife is lucky to have a man like you.”

I scoffed and laughed out loud once, “You should tell her that! It doesn’t matter what I do, I still land myself in trouble for something!” I chuckled again.

“I bet you do, trouble written all over you, you have!” Cassie responded with a giggle. She plucked the Basque, with its fluttering ribbons, off the line and into the basket. She quickly gathered the stockings together, wrapping them together round and around the hand. “Maybe I’ll give these another go.” She said almost to herself, but the wicked grin told me that she said it for me. With that she dropped into a squat next to the basket, her knees wide, wide apart. My eyes were uncontrollably drawn up the muscular tanned thighs. I watched the hem of the vest top pop up, and over the firm cheeks of her arse, revealing the bare-naked globes of Cassie’s delightful rear end. Time stopped once more, and the glorious image of my neighbour wantonly and deliberately displayed before me seared itself deep into my mind. No knickers. She was completely bare under that thin vest this whole time. Then her thighs clamped shut, and time restarted with a jolt. She turned to look over her shoulder, flicking her ponytail over the opposite shoulder and stared straight into my soul with a grin so wide she would put the Cheshire cat to shame. She stood slowly, hitched the basket under her left arm and with a wiggle of her wide hips, tugged the vest gently back into place to cover her pretend modesty. Her eyes never left my face, but my eyes were fixed on her firmly to her shapely rear. She turned and began to saunter down her garden path towards her house. The back of the top had caught on the basket, her left cheek flexing as she put extra wiggle into her hips. My mouth hung open. Over her shoulder she gave a farewell, “Thanks again neighbour, having someone listen to me rant has help blow away the cobwebs. Your wife really is a lucky girl, you really do know how to make a girl feel seen.” She smiled widely, the dying light of the sun casting a radiant glow on her receding form.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12bloa8/that_beautiful_summers_evening_m42f27f35_part_1