A surprisingly hot May Friday in New England, Memorial Day weekend.

Sharon had been coy about the purpose of the visit, but Sue felt that any visit to Sharon's was time well spent. A good friend with whom you could share your thoughts, commiserate, share and trust. After breakfast she showered, toweled off and dressed. Cutoffs, a cotton camisole and sandals.

The ninety-minute drive to Sharon's went quickly; the holiday traffic wouldn't hit until afternoon, and when Sue pulled into Sharon's driveway it was just before noon. In front of the house was an old beat up pickup, cluttered with landscaping paraphernalia: lawn mowers, rakes, collected tree branches and tools. The truck looked like it had seen more than a little action backing or banging into the trees which were a big part of its business.

Sue rang the bell and heard soft footsteps on the other side. The door opened and Sharon greeted her with a "Hi, girlfriend!", a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

Exchanging events of the last few weeks, they walked from the vestibule, through the kitchen and into the living room, with the adjoining porch. As they entered the living room, Sue's attention was taken by a view through the large bay window looking onto the back yard. Two young, muscular men wearing only torn cutoffs and work boots were hoeing, weeding and pruning flower beds and shrubs.

Sharon noticed Sue's double take, "Like that, huh?"

"I got my tax refund check a week ago and thought I'd treat myself to a yard work over that didn't involve me for a change."

"Yeah, I'll bet. This is a landscaping company that let's you pick out the workers from a photo album?"

Sharon, blushed and laughed defensively, "No, but they are pretty nice, aren't they?"

"You got that right. The one on the left looks like a young Keith Hernandez, and the blonde is pretty easy on the eyes as well."

"I heard them, I think his name is Harold."

"Well, Harold," Sue said to no one in particular, "You and your friend have nice butts."

"You are SO bad!"

"Like all you're thinking about are their horticultural skills. Right. You've been unattached for two months now, you must be climbing the walls. Your fingers must have callouses and you must have gone through two sets of batteries on your vibrator. You should get the rechargables, you know; less solid waste. I have a little solar battery recharger on my window seat at home, just to recharge vibrator batteries."

Just at that point, "Keith" looked up from his work, smiled and waved, sweat dripping from his black locks and his mustache. Sue smiled and waved back, perhaps a bit too comically.

"Yup, love that horticulture. He can lick my petals any old time."

"You're incorrigible, Sue. I'm paying them good money to do yard work. They've been at it for six hours now and I want to make sure they get done. They'd probably stink anyway and...what am I saying! You don't even know they'd be interested."

"They're what? Eighteen? Maybe twenty? I've already scoped out their left hands and they are no wedding bands in sight. They're men and very young ones at that. When is the last time you've been with a man that young? Remember? Not great in the experience department, but let's just say I think what we have here are a couple of potential energizer bunnies. Betcha a quarter. I wouldn't want to live with someone that young, but they do have certain, um, physiological advantages."

"Look, Sharon, once every so often in life you are offered an opportunity which, if you pass it up you will regret. You'll regret it today, tomorrow and especially tonight."

"Yeah, well, it's almost like paying for it."

"So we're doing our part to maintain a tradition of gender role reversals. Hey, they're doing the yard. They'll probably be happy to do you for nothing. Remember "Indecent Proposal?" The fundamental flaw with that film is that most women would have sex with Robert Redford for car fare. Go get a few towels, soap and a box of condoms. It's game time."

While Sharon was gone, Sue moved closer, leaned against the large full height window and began to run her fingers absent-mindedly over her nipples, which quickly began to harden. After a few seconds she saw Harold turn to "Keith" and say something she could not hear, but she could see them both laugh and shake their heads. Her other hand moved to her cutoffs, where she began to trace the edge of the frayed denim with her fingers, and then moved onto the flap over her zipper.

Sharon returned and placed the toiletry articles on a table. She smiled lasciviously as she watched Sue. "And what are you up to?"

"Just trying to raise the temperature a bit. I think you're going to lose that quarter, girlfriend."

Sharon moved over next to Sue and began stretching exercises which hiked her denim skirt two or three inches above its original mid-thigh length. Then she stepped back and, keeping her eyes right on Harold, began to slowly hike up her skirt, revealing increasingly large amounts of smooth, muscular thigh above her high top black sneakers and socks.

Harold and "Keith" were at a decided disadvantage in this "contest." Sue and Sharon grew up at a time when you might have respectability, but rebelliousness was reasonably accepted, especially among young people. Keith and Harold, children of the late eighties and nineties, were brought to respect authority a little too much, calling people "Sir" and "Ma'am" and with minds focused on the law schools they hoped to get into in three years.

Temptation was staring them in the face and it was only a matter of time until they weakened. Sue unsnapped her shorts and slowly pulled down the zipper, revealing pink cotton panties underneath. Sharon continued to slowly raise her skirt as she swayed her hips back and forth and purposefully flexed and unflexed leg and thigh muscles. With her other hand she pulled her shirt out of her skirt and exposed a swath of bare stomach, including her navel. Both women stared directly at the men, who continued to work but stole increasingly frequent looks at the women and showed clear signs of a loss of concentration and coordination.

Sue slipped one hand into her panties and began to masturbate. She leaned against the window column, her other arm sliding up her camisole up and over her braless breasts. Then her free arm spread up along the column.

Sharon slipped off her panties, turned her back to the window and bent over to grab her ankles, baring her shapely ass and large pussy lips to her increasingly tense audience. She righted herself after a few seconds, grabbed a chair and placed one sneakered foot on the chair, again effectively exposing her moist slit, which she began to massage and finger.

"Keith" and Harold had now stopped working and were now nervously standing ten feet from the window, shifting their weight from foot to foot. Harold tried to slide his hand over the outside of the front of his shorts, as if no one would notice. "Keith" began using his flat palm to rub the front of his, no longer caring.

It was Sue's orgasm that pushed things over the edge. The move of her hand-bulge within her pink panties became increasing frantic. Then the muscles in her stomach, became taught, she arched her back, pressing her right against the glass and she buried her face in her up stretched spare arm as she spasmed, grunted and moaned. She turned her face, contorted in pleasure, to the window and began to lick the glass.

The two women gained their composure and, slightly rearranging their clothing, exited the back door to the back yard to meet two sweaty young men with obvious bulges in their pants.

"OK, strip! said Sharon, as Sue grabbed the garden hose and turned the hand valve. No sooner had "Keith" and Harold awkwardly pulled their cutoffs and underwear over their erections than Sharon tossed them bars of soap and Sue turned the hose on them.

"Whoa!" yelped Harold as the cold water, tempered only by a hose that had been sitting in the sun, hit him.

"Shit! Woooo!"

"Let's get a move on, boys," said Sue, "There are two pussies here waiting for your attention, but we want you reasonably clean."