I found myself standing in the driveway of my new home staring at the small U-Haul trailer that contained my entire life. At twenty-three, I had been married, and was now divorced. Thankfully there had not been any children. We’d married young, both of us full of dreams for the future. Six month’s after that, we both knew it had been a mistake, yet we’d stuck it out for another two years.
We’d parted as friends, though certainly not close ones. And I had no intention of ever seeing her again anyway, which is one of the reasons I’d moved halfway across the country. The other, I had a good job waiting for me that would help pay the bills I’d collected during those two and a half years. Today was the day my new life would start, in a new state, with a new job, but with an old house. I’d purchased a small little home that was nearly seventy-five years old and in need of some minor repairs. But I was pretty good with my hands, and a fresh coat of paint would go along way to making it presentable again.
As I began to move my belongings into the house, I spotted the neighbor who lived next door to me as she came outside to work in her garden. I thought about introducing myself, but she went about her business without even looking towards me, so I decided to save that for another day. I did notice over the course of the next few days that I never saw anyone else in the home, so had to surmise from that, she lived alone, and was either divorced, or a widower.
I had an entire week before I was to start my new job, so I had ample time to get settled in, and also do a few things around the house. The first thing was getting the picket fence mended and painted.
I had been at it nearly the entire day when I finally worked myself around to the side of the yard that separated my house from my neighbors. This time she was stooped over pulling weeds from her garden when I began painting the fence near the area she was working in.
“Good afternoon,” I said casually.
The woman glanced up at me smiling.
“Good afternoon to you too. I see you’ve gotten settled in ok,” she replied.
Smiling back, I nodded my head.
“Yes thanks. But I’m afraid I’ve still got a few things to do to get this old place looking decent again.”
She laughed at that and stood up offering me her hand, which surprised me, as I hadn’t expected it.
“By the way, you can call me Maggie.”
I accepted her hand, and was surprised to find myself a little embarrassed that I hadn’t offered to introduce myself to her first.
“Richard,” I offered.
“Nice to meet you Richard. You married?”
Once again she caught me a little off guard, but I’m sure she was curious why a young man would be moving into a home all by himself, unless I was here ahead of my family and trying to get the place ready for them before they arrived.
“No…used to be. Recently divorced.”
Maggie gave me a sad faced frown in understanding.
‘Too bad. Sorry to hear that.”
I simply shrugged my shoulders indicating, “What can I say” in response.
As we stood talking, each of us on our own side of the short dirty white picket fence, I couldn’t help but wonder about Maggie. Obviously living alone, I was curious, but didn’t dare ask her why she was alone, especially after just meeting her anyway. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t attractive either. I wasn’t exactly sure about her age. Something about her told me she was older than she looked, probably in her late fifty’s to very early sixty’s perhaps, but there was no way of knowing without just asking her. And I wasn’t about to do that.
Maggie had a few slight streaks of silver running through her blondish colored hair, almost imperceptible, but it hinted that she was indeed a lot older than what she looked. But even more remarkable was the ample amount of bosom she was displaying. She had undone one more button more than what I would dare say most women would allow, even while working in the yard, and so displayed a fair amount of cleavage. Although only the gentle upper slopes of her breasts were revealed, they were both tan, and very smooth looking. Maggie obviously stayed active and was in fairly good shape, probably even better than I was at less than half her age!
“How long have you lived here?” I asked. Hoping the question would lead to Maggie revealing a little more about herself.
“Oh, about twenty years now,” she said. “My husband and I moved here to begin our new life together, after my divorce.” Her gentle smile told me she was remembering their time together. “He died suddenly about five years ago.”
Once again she smiled good-naturedly though a look of profound sadness crossed her face.
“Don’t be, we had a good life together. And though I miss him, he left plenty for me to survive on, and I enjoy living here. And now that someone’s finally moved in next door to fix up this house, I’ll feel even better about my place. Though I admit, my fence could use a little fresh paint too!”
“Listen, I’ll have plenty of spare time on my hands. If you’d like, I’d be more than happy to paint your fence once I’m done here. And besides, with both fences painted, it will make both of our homes look nicer don’t you think?”
“I’ll be happy to pay you for your time,” she stated.
“That’s not necessary,” I told her. “Just consider it my being neighborly!”
“I’d be careful what you offer up. I just might try and take advantage of you.”
For a moment, I was a little unsure as to what she had meant by that, but then decided that my long ignored libido was working overtime, and that she probably hadn’t meant anything beyond the simple truth of her words.
“I should be finished here today,” I said eyeing the work I’d already accomplished and the still unfinished section of fence I still had to paint.
“I could start on it Saturday if you’d like.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Maggie exclaimed. “But, just so you know, I won’t be here in the morning if you do start. There’s a group of us that gets together every Saturday for coffee and the latest gossip. We take turns at each other’s houses, though most of the time we do meet here since I live alone and don’t have a husband to get underfoot all the time.”
Maggie gave me a really big smile, and even winked. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that one.
“Saturday it is then,” I told her. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of paint anyway, as long as white’s ok.”
“White will be just fine.”
Maggie removed the bandana that had been holding her hair up in order to wipe the sweat from her forehead. As she did, her hair fell down to her shoulders, which took another couple of years off her age.
“Well, it’s going to be another hot one today, so I’d better let you get back to your fence, and I’d best get back to weeding this garden!”
Once again we shook hands over the fence. I watched her turn, walking away admiring her shapely legs, and the luscious ass outlined by a pair of short beige shorts as she turned her back towards me.
“Get a grip,” I told myself. “She’s easily twice your age to begin with. And secondly, going without sex this long is starting to play tricks on my mind. Forget her!”
But as I continued to paint the fence, I realized that this was easier said than done. And I was also subconsciously wondering if she had any kind of a social life outside of her Saturday coffee gathering with the girls.
When I showered late that afternoon, I found myself aroused and excited. I hadn’t felt that way in quite sometime, and especially as I’d just moved here. I certainly hadn’t had time to meet anyone, especially anyone I could become intimate with. Just Maggie. And so there I was, standing in the shower, soaping a very erect penis, actually fantasizing about her. A thought that both surprised, and bothered me a little bit. After all, she was considerably older than I was; yet, I was aroused as hell by her and still curious as to why she hadn’t remarried.
I continued to masturbate, images of those luscious looking tits of hers still fresh in my mind, and almost blushed with the thought of what she would think if she knew I was thinking about her.
Late that evening as I prepared for bed, I went to the window to open it wider than it had been to take advantaged of the cool breeze blowing in. As I looked out across the yard, I realized for the first time that my upstairs bedroom window looked directly across and into the side-window of her front room. I could just barely see Maggie watching TV through the partially opened blinds. She was lying on the far end of her couch, legs stretched out with the TV angled just slightly towards the window. I had a perfect view of them both. I nearly turned away to shut off the lights and go to bed when I noticed that she was watching what appeared to be a fairly racy movie. I was sure it was just one of those late night R-rated shows with the occasional love scene that just happened to be on when I noticed it. And then I realized just as quickly that it wasn’t! What I was seeing, and what Maggie was actually watching, was far more than that. This was hard-core stuff, triple X-rated material. And she was watching it!
Suddenly I had a whole new respect for the neighbor I’d begun to think of as rather shy and quiet. Maggie obviously had another very private side to herself that I was actually quite delighted to see. Though she certainly wasn’t living with anyone, nor had I seen her go out with any men, it was nice to know that she still had very sexual desires and thoughts, and was willing to do something that others might consider inappropriate to satisfy herself.
It was then that I realized I was still standing in my bedroom window looking down at her. And though she couldn’t have possibly seen me unless she’d gone to her window and looked up in my direction, I nevertheless stepped back hurriedly, turning off the light before approaching the window again.
The term “peeping tom” came to mind, and I actually felt a little guilty spying on her. After all, I was invading her privacy, and she had a right to whatever pleasures she desired in her own home, no matter what form they took. Hell, I’d spent my early evening masturbating, thinking of her. And now there was no doubt I’d be doing so again, with the image of her lying on the couch watching a porno movie adding fuel to that new fire. Although I still felt guilty, and ashamed that I was still watching her, I honestly couldn’t help myself. I would certainly never tell her, or even hint that I had seen her, and had no intention of making this a nightly ritual either, but for the moment anyway, I simply couldn’t tear myself away from that damn window!
I noticed for the first time that she was dressed for bed. Maggie was wearing some sort of loose fitting nightgown that obviously wasn’t meant to be sexy. Especially since it didn’t expose a lot of skin, but still added to the over all indecent, almost decadent and naughty feeling I was enjoying. Once I’d begun to grow erect, I grew harder and stiffer until my cock began to ache, demanding release. And short of some natural disaster, I knew I’d soon be jerking off again.
I was still struggling to turn away from the window, but unable to take my eyes off her or the movie she was watching, when I saw her pull up the hem of her nightgown, raise her knees, letting them fall apart, and begin playing with herself. Watching Maggie giving herself pleasure openly, deliberately, without shame. Seeing her stroke the folds of her pussy, sliding her fingers in between them to find and caress her clit, I knew I was a goner, and I reached down to begin stroking my cock. I stepped back from the window slightly as though she might somehow sense my presence and look up to see me. The fact I was watching her masturbate was so unexpected and so totally unbelievable, that I found myself aroused beyond my wildest imagination!
As I stood in the relative safety of my own darkened bedroom, I continued to stroke my cock, using the over abundance of leaking pre-cum as lubrication to increase the pleasure I was giving myself.
I stared at Maggie, concentrating on her as she was obviously gave her pussy pleasure, slowly yet methodically fingering herself. Though the blinds kept me from seeing her as clearly as I would have preferred, I knew exactly what she was doing from the motions of her hand. And then, just as if she could hear me thinking that I wanted to see more, she dropped her head back against the arm of the oversized couch. Maggie lifted up one of her legs so that it draped across the back, pulling her gown up to her breasts, exposing her pussy and her attentions to it even more completely.
I still couldn’t see her as well as I wanted to, but I could tell she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Her eyes were closed, no longer watching the video, and her expression of intense pleasure, plus the way she suddenly lifted her hips from the couch, rubbing herself faster and harder, told me that she was either having an orgasm, or was very close to it.
At that point, I stepped away from the window. Maybe she was indeed reaching a climax, but I felt I owed her at least a little bit of privacy to enjoy it without actually having someone spying on her while she did. I quickly climbed into my bed and proceeded to bring myself pleasure in a very slow and deliberate way. Images of Maggie sitting on her couch masturbating were now very much a part of my newest fantasy, and very much a part of the secret I would never ever reveal to anyone.
When I finally did climax, I was surprised at the force and volume of my orgasm. In the near total darkness, I felt the warm sticky splashes of my semen hitting my chin, neck, and even landing on my pillow long before my initial ejaculations diminished in intensity. Only when the remainder of my fluids began to run down between my fingers did I finally slow my stroking, beginning to catch my breath after such an intense and very enjoyable climax.
I got out of bed and padded quietly into the bathroom almost as though Maggie might somehow hear me. And silly as it was, I also closed the bathroom door before turning on the light in order to wash and clean myself off, still fearful that she would somehow know what I’d been doing.
Turning off the light, I opened the door and returned to the window. Total darkness greeted me below, and I knew that Maggie had also gone to bed. But as her bedroom faced in a totally different direction, there was nothing more to see, and tomorrow was Saturday. I knew I’d have a very busy day painting her fence. I set the alarm for six o’clock, since I wanted to get up, fix a light breakfast and then begin painting before it got too hot. I crawled into bed, but tossed and turned before finally slipping off to sleep. Though wonderfully satisfied from my orgasm, I was still wrestling with mixed emotions about what I had witnessed and participated in. Seeing Maggie as I had, I could no longer think of her as just that nice older woman who lived next door. Now I also knew her as the sensual, exciting, and even tempting woman that she really was.
The sound of the alarm ringing in my ear was the next thing I heard, waking to discover that I had a hard-on, and not the normal one I usually woke to. This one was at least equal to the boner I’d been sporting the night before, watching Maggie. And not surprisingly, those were the scenes I replayed in my head as I gave myself another intense and satisfying orgasm. Sometimes showers are for more than just getting clean!
I’d been working on her fence for over and hour when she emerged from the house. She seemed a little surprised to see how much I’d accomplished. It was just barely 8:00, and I guess she’d thought I’d sleep in before starting to work.
“Good morning!” she called out to me, waving as she walked down the front of her steps.
“Good morning!” I replied, pausing to admire her appearance. She was wearing another pair of shorts, white in color, and very, very short. But she was also wearing a very tight fitting bright pink tank top that even at this distance I could see she was wearing without a bra on. Her fairly large breasts were completely unencumbered, and surprisingly firm against her chest, though I was also a little relieved to see weren’t so perfectly molded as to hint that she had had implants or anything, making them appear less than real or natural to me.
Resting her hand on the handle of her car door, she turned and spoke to me again. “I’m off for coffee with the girls for a couple of hours, but would you like me to pick up anything for you on my way back? I have to stop at the store anyway…”
“No thank you. I’m fine.” I was surprised at the slight nervousness in my voice, and hoped that at this distance she wouldn’t notice it, or the flush on my face as the blood rushed into it. Normally I’m not in the habit of picturing women naked whenever I look at them, but seeing Maggie in that incredibly sexy and revealing outfit, made it hard to picture her any other way. Especially since I’d had glimpses of her the night before to inspire me.
Maggie gave me a final wave and slipped into her car backing out of the driveway. I stood watching her; aware of my rapidly hardening prick, suddenly grateful that she was leaving. Otherwise, I would have been forced to go back into the house and take care of myself one again, a practice that I was suddenly becoming very good at.
Maggie arrived home shortly before noon, but by then I had already finished the fence and had gone inside to wash up in the kitchen. I’d taken off my sweaty tee shirt, having thrown it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Standing at the sink, I heard the sound of someone knocking at my kitchen door, and then the sound of Maggie’s voicing calling to me through the screen.
“Knock, knock!” she said, in time with her actual knocking.
Turning, I saw that she was standing there with what appeared to be a large pitcher of pink lemonade and two plastic colored glasses. The door wasn’t latched, so I immediately called out, inviting her in.
Grabbing a wad of paper towels, I quickly wiped off my hands, turning in search of my sweat-stinky tee shirt. Maggie walked into my kitchen setting down the pitcher and glasses on the small table.
“Oh don’t bother putting your shirt back on,” she told me. “It’s not like I haven’t seen a man nearly naked before!”
Just the tone of her voice assured me that she wasn’t offended by my standing there in nothing more than a pair of shorts. And the easy off-handed way she presented herself also assured me that she was already more comfortable with our being neighbors that I was. Even so, I was beginning to feel the almost shy blush spread to my cheeks as I gave up trying to untangle the tee shirt dropping it back onto the chair.
“It’s too bad that society is so concerned with women showing off their breasts in public. Why men can do it and women can’t is beyond me. Especially here in the United States! You know, almost every other place in the world, on most beaches anyway, women can run around topless as much as they want to without anyone saying or doing a thing about it! Yet here, if I just wore my bra outside, not to mention going topless, it would be considered obscene, even though I’ve seen women wearing bathing suits that covered less, and were still considered to be legal!” Maggie paused to chuckle. “Just look at the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue! How legal can those women be, wearing no more than three triangles just about two inches across and a few feet of string?”
Maggie managed all this while pouring our lemonade, and without spilling a drop. Looking up at me, she handed me one of the glasses and smiled. “You seem surprised?”
“What?” I said, trying not to sound as stupid as I’m sure I did.
“That someone my age would give a rat’s ass about running around topless. Hell, if I could get away with it, I would. What’s wrong with working out in one’s own yard wearing – – or not wearing–whatever you want to?”
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