I didn't know Bill that well, even though Julie and I had moved in next door just after our wedding two years ago. It was one of those suburban realities that we would see him every now and then, tending his garden, tinkering under the hood of his old convertible Mustang, but beside a brief introduction when we moved in and a brief hello every now and then, our paths never really crossed. He was forty years older than us, a nice enough man, but we had nothing in common.
We finally had saved enough money to build the privacy fence that Julie always wanted, and it seemed to increase the distance even farther between us and our amicable neighbor. My wife didn't want the fence to protect us from his eyes; it was the rental property neighbors on the other side of our house with barking dogs and loud friends. My young wife was a quiet person who liked her seclusion, and the eight foot wooden fence made her feel secure enough to lay out back in her swimsuit and read or talk on the phone or even write stories on her laptop when the weather was nice. Since we live in Florida, she's out back a lot.
I had borrowed a pipe wrench from our neighbor a couple of weeks earlier and finally got around to returning it. I figured he was home because the Mustang was out front and the garage door was open. My wife was in the back yard in her swimsuit, lying face down on a wooden deck chair, folded flat. She was reading a romance paperback, one of the paranormal romance types she likes so much, with women being ravished by werewolves and vampires.
I walked across the front lawn to Bill's open garage. The space in his yard between our fence and his garage was covered with a dense hedge of areca palms ... by building our privacy fence we actually did a better job of secluding his yard, full of mature plantings, than ours.
Bill had a standard Florida garage ... meaning that he used it as an extra living room when the weather was nice. He had a couch and a TV, and a fridge full of beer. I stepped in and looked around. Unlike my garage he kept everything so neat. I didn't see him, but I saw exactly the spot where the wrench belonged, on a pegboard on the outside wall, just next to the side door, which faced our yard, and stood propped open by a concrete lawn gnome that prevented it from accidentally swinging closed in the gentle afternoon breeze.
I figured Bill was inside, maybe taking a nap. I don't know why I figured older guys took naps all the time, but I did. I went to hang the wrench in its spot on the wall and just before I turned away to go home, a movement on our neighbor's side of the privacy fence caught my eye.
I peeked out in the direction of the movement and there was our neighbor, his back to me, crouched with his face pressed against a gap in the boards of our fence. His shorts were around his ankles, and the movement I had seen was him stroking his cock as he watched my wife sunbathing.
I suppose I should have been shocked, or offended, but instead my heart pounded with curiosity and excitement. Curiosity because I had never seen another man masturbate before, much less with my wife as the object of his lust. And my own cock stiffened quickly with the imagination of what he was seeing, what was going through his mind, imagining her body, covered as it was with only the thin layer of white clingy fabric of her one piece suit. The view he had couldn't have been more than a yard or two from the foot of her chair. If her legs were still slightly spread, as they had been when I last checked in on her, he should have been able to see the crotch panel of her suit pulled tight over the close trimmed mound of her blonde pubes, with the slightest hint of the swell and cleft of her puffy pussy lips beneath. Maybe a couple of hairs peeked out the sides of the panel. That always drove me crazy with desire for her, the telltale signs of a mature sexual woman carelessly exposed to public view.
I froze for a moment. I wanted to be in two places at once ... staying here to watch as he slowly pleasured himself, and in my own backyard exposing my wife to my neighbor's fevered gaze. The temptation to put on an even better show of my wife's sexy body was simply too great. I didn't know what I was going to do, what I could get away with, but I needed to try. This opportunity might never happen again.
I carefully placed the pipe wrench in its place on the pegboard and returned quietly to my house. Looking out the kitchen window I could see her, still lying on her stomach. If anything, her legs were slightly wider spread. I studied the fence carefully to figure out if he was still there, and given that I now knew where to look, I thought I detected his presence. He was closer than I originally thought. If it weren't for the fence, he would have been able to reach out and tickle her bare feet.
I had to reposition my own growing member as I quickly hatched a plan. I couldn't let my wife detect an obvious hard-on as I approached, for fear of tipping her off to my intentions. Pouring an iced tea into a covered tumbler and inserting a straw, I walked out into the backyard next to her, careful not to glance at the fence and just as careful not to block his view.
"Here honey. Good book?" She squinted up at me over the top of her sunglasses as I offered her the iced tea. As I had hoped, the lid and the straw meant that she didn't need to roll over to drink. I wanted her to stay on her stomach, comfortable and relaxed.
"Thanks, babe. It's okay, right in the middle of a good vampire se scene right now." She propped herself up just enough so that I got a quick peek between her perfect C-cups, a bead of sweat dripping down her cleavage.
I picked up the lotion from the table next to her chair. "Let me refresh your sunblock, okay gorgeous? Don't want that perfect skin to get burned." She smiled and laid the book down, stretching herself out to be accessible. I kneeled at the head of the sturdy wooden chair and poured a handful of the thick white lotion across my fingertips, musing about how similar the warm liquid felt to the substance I was hoping to tease from my lustful neighbor. I smoothed it over her neck, and the part of her shoulders that was exposed by her rather modest suit.
"Mmmm, you have good hands, sweets."
I coated her arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Let me get your legs, Julie. You can get back to your book." I moved down next to the foot of her chair, making sure our neighbor still had a good view. Starting with the graceful foot on the side opposite me, I sensuously and slowly applied the lotion, being careful not to tickle. Julie loved having me pay attention to her pretty feet, and made yummy contented noises as I made sure every one of her toes were protected from the harsh sun.
I worked my slippery hands up her shapely ankle, to her knee and then slowly up her thigh. She was engrossed in her book as my hands drifted closer and closer to the thin panel of fabric that covered her precious parts. She sighed deeply as my fingers traced the edge of the suit.
I noticed that a few blonde hairs had in fact escaped the elastic, which looked a little ragged, as the suit was several years old. My stiff shaft throbbed at the thought that Bill might be able to see them too.
Then I started on the foot closer to me, giving it the same careful, loving treatment I gave the other, while stretching her leg gently toward me. By the time I was working the warm lotion into her calf, I had coaxed her leg off the chaise, supporting it as I massaged her long graceful limb. She purred in satisfaction as I massaged my way up her thigh, toward her feminine treasure.
This time, with her legs spread wider, there was a little gap in her valley between the elastic and her sensitive flesh. I could just make out the edge of her tangle of blonde pubic hair through the opening. I was glad that the elastic was so relaxed after years of wear as her favorite swimsuit. I made a mental note to take my gorgeous wife shopping for new swimwear, hoping she would agree to a skimpy bikini now that we had a private back yard.
I slowly made my move toward the enticing gap, anticipating her swatting my hand away just as I got close. She was always intensely modest, not liking public displays of affection. But I suppose she felt like the privacy fence created a seclusion that sheltered her, because as tip of my middle finger ventured under the material to make contact with the soft warmth of her puffy outer lips, she simply moaned in pleasure.
My strongest desire at that moment was to take the fabric between my fingertips and pull it aside, fully exposing Julie's beautiful pussy to Bill's lustful gaze. But I restrained myself, afraid that if I pushed my shy wife too far, she would stop me and I'd lose all the ground I had surprisingly gained.