[FM] My neighbor’s son [21M] has been watching me [54F] sunbathe.

Hello sweeties.

I’ve been reading stories on here for a month or so, and I’ve been debating about putting out some of my own. Lord knows I have plenty. For now, I have one I can’t keep to myself:

First, some background on me: I’m a fifty-four-year-old widow. I married a wealthy man (more than twice my age) the week before my twentieth birthday. For those of you who failed math, that was in 1986. My father and soon to be husband were business partners before the latter made a handful of good (lucky) investments and retired early. He decided to reward himself with a hot young thing, and so I spent almost twenty-five years as his trophy wife, doing nothing but keeping in shape, socializing with other housewives, and satisfying his needs – when they weren’t being satisfied by whoever he was carrying on with at the time. I didn’t mind. The prenup daddy insisted on was ironclad, so hubby and I eventually came to an agreement, but that’s another story.

I’m not the most beautiful I’ve ever been, but I still look great for my age. Just to help you out, I’m five-feet seven-inches tall and still fit for fun. I have fair skin (well not lately) with a trail of freckles running under my eyes, and some other places. ? I have shoulder length ginger hair, usually pulled back in a ponytail. But you boys and girls are more likely interested in my other assets, and I don’t mean the ones I get regular payments from. I’m talking tits, and mine have always been my most valuable asset. I wouldn’t have been a good trophy wife if they weren’t. The factory models weren’t huge – 36C, UK – but when they started to sag, I got an upgrade to DD. Why not, right? I love them, and instantly noticed the increased attention from men – and women. Lately, they’re a tawny almond color, with bright white triangles of my natural Welsh tone right in the center. I’m an eighties girl, tan lines make me feel hot.

Now that we’re up to speed, here’s what I’ve been dying to write about:

I’ve been sunbathing a lot. It gets me outside during this virus hubbub, and I like to keep my lines nice and sharp once I get them going. The guys from the landscaping service appreciate it. I see the way they watch me – forgetting not to turn their heads as they ride around and glare at me through their tough guy sunglasses. I keep waiting for one of them to drive the mower into the pool. None of them have tried approaching me yet. If they did, I might actually take them inside and help them get cleaned up because I’m so fucking bored. But for now, they just do their job and wave awkwardly as they leave for the next one.

About two months ago, I noticed my neighbor’s son – we’ll call him Andrew – watching me too. His classes went online because of the virus, so he’s been cooped-up in his room, stuck on a computer all day.

I was laying out in a too-small triangle bikini, engineered to drive the landscapers wild: navy-blue top with white stars and a high leg, Baywatch-red bottom. Very patriotic. Andrew’s window has a view through the trees on my property line to the far side of my pool. I saw him standing there looking out the window like Jimmy Stewart, with his hand up to shade his eyes from the sun. He may as well have been waving at me.

It isn’t the first time he’s looked at me that way – he’s been doing that since puberty. But now he’s in college, he’s legal (which is good, because I don’t have a face for prison), and he’s been shaping up. He isn’t a young Adonis, or anything. Not tall, or extremely muscular. Just toned. Neither ugly, nor some teenage heartthrob. Just the boy next door type. He has always been sweet and polite. I wanted to see how interested he was, and convinced myself he would be a fun quarantine project, like the ones I see all of my bored housewife friends doing on Facebook. It’s a little close to home for me. I don’t usually sleep with men I know, but these are interesting times. (Again, another story :P)

Since then, I’ve made sure to lay out at the same time, same place, as often as I can. I know he watches me, even if he’s better at hiding it now. I tease him, reclining with my knees up and legs spread, taking off my top and lingering for a while before rolling over.

I thought I finally got the reaction I was looking for a few days ago, when he sent a friend request and a message that read: *I thought you should know I can see you, Mrs. XXX*. So polite. I haven’t been Mrs. Anything since he was in junior high.

*And?*, I replied, and left it at that. I felt a little like a weird sex predator when he didn’t respond for a while. When he did, he sent back a happy face emoji. He’s too polite. I would be the one making moves.

Yesterday afternoon, I went out as usual and decided to make my intentions clear. I laid down with my tablet and read a trashy novel for a while, working up courage I don’t normally need for this type of thing. Then I took a deep breath, and untied my cute black and white checkered bottom. I held my tablet up and continued reading while I absentmindedly played with my freshly waxed pussy. It’s a good thing his window is far away, because I did the wax myself, and I did a terrible job.

I hoped he was watching, but I couldn’t tell. It made me so horny, knowing he could be.

My phone chimed a few minutes later.

*You need help with anything this weekend?* Andrew asked. Poor thing probably had to consult with his buddies for a good line. And that was the best they came up with.

*I can think of one project you can help me finish. Saturday afternoon.*

He sent back a thumbs-up emoji. :|

I know he’s been safely quarantining, but maybe I’ll make him wear a mask anyway…

Two days and counting until the drought is over, sweeties.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/hfsr99/fm_my_neighbors_son_21m_has_been_watching_me_54f