Chapter 4: Wild Throw

“I should hang the screens.”

“Hang them tomorrow, Tim. Today, I need to prepare the garden. No sense having a back yard if you’re not going to garden.”

“Somehow, your having to prepare the garden means my having to dig up the ground.”

“But, darling, I thought you enjoyed doing spade work.”

“You sure talk sexy, Sally, when you’re all dressed and going outdoors. You think you’re safe from your husband.”

“Sexy? That was a totally innocent remark. ‘Doctor, you’re the one with the dirty pictures.’”

“Your last day of total innocence was in kindergarten.” Sally thought that he hadn’t much experience with kids if he thought kindergartners were innocent. Well, let him keep his illusions. When they had a kid of their own, he’d learn. “Okay,” Tim continued, “but I’ll get you one day.”

He dug up the sod from the rectangle which would be a garden. She smoothed the bare ground and prepared it for the planting tomorrow. She got done while he was still cleaning his tools and returning them to the garage. She took a shower, dried off, and put on her pink robe. They’d once thought pink for her and blue for him was funny. The robes had lasted longer than the joke. As she came out of the bathroom, Tim headed in for his own shower.

It was still a nice day; she’d decide on what to wear when they decided whether to go out or stay in. It was Saturday; maybe she could persuade Tim to barbecue. One of the living-room windows opened onto the porch. She opened it and leaned out. Here, she was hidden enough from the street that her bathrobe wouldn’t shock anybody. The air smelled of spring and mown lawns.

“Tim,” she’d heard him behind her, “what about...” she started to turn around.

“No. Stay there.” His hand on the middle of her back pressed her down. She supported herself, and -- from the feel of it -- a good deal of him, on her elbows on the sill. “You look quite sexy like that. Have I ever mentioned that you have a sexy butt?” Often, but the robe was hardly revealing.

Tim took care of that problem. He flipped the robe up so that his hand could reach her ass.

“Tim!”

“Tell the street, why don’t you?” He was right. Neighbor children were playing on the sidewalk. Her head was out the window. If she whispered, he could claim to not hear; if she spoke much louder, the kids would hear. She certainly couldn’t be explicit, ‘get your hand off my ass.’ And, while she didn’t like the situation, he knew just how to excite her.

He stroked all over each ass cheek, drew a finger along the line joining those cheeks to her thighs. Then he held her labia in his hand. At first, he was only holding them and squeezing very gently. Then he rubbed one against the other. Finally, his finger stroked between them, moving forward from the back to just short of her clitoris. He stroked back.

“Touch it,” she whispered.

“You’ll stay here?”

“Yes. Just touch it.” His next stroke was slow, agonizingly slow. But, when -- months later, it seemed -- he touched it, he lit a fire in her belly. Two more of his strokes reached it before that hand left her completely.

“Tim!” This whisper might have been audible in the street; but she needed him, and he was teasing her.

“Wait a second,” he said. “This position is no good.” And, then, he was closer behind her and reaching around the front. She felt his hand sliding around her thigh towards her labia. She also felt him lean over her back and the length his cock press along the crack between her ass cheeks. His robe was obviously open; she could even feel the folds pressed against her thighs. She swayed side to side, rubbing his cock with her ass, until his finger found her clitoris again. Then she ignored everything else, his hand on her back, the breeze outside, the discomfort which had been building from the position.

Warmth was spreading from her belly. It had reached her thighs and her breasts when Tim’s other hand reached her breast, too. He held her left breast under the robe and tweaked the nipple. She started feeling even warmer.

“Like that?” he asked. She nodded vigorously, forming words would take too much of her attention. “You’ll like this better.” Actually, she liked it less. His hand left her breast and the finger of the other hand, while it stayed on her clitoris, became motionless. He moved a little back from her ass. Then she felt his cock beginning to penetrate her vagina.