(One of a series of stories sequel to the original Showoff)

It was easy to find additional yard tasks for Eric to keep him close to my windows two or three days each week. Today he was over cleaning the pool for example, right outside my bedroom window where last week he watched me getting dressed.

I watched the handsome young man, wearing a low-slung pair of swim trunks as he used a long-handled skimmer whisking away leaves and other debris. He is lean and sleek in appearance, much like the Olympic swimmers on TV. His swimsuit was a red plaid color and drapes low on his hips with the strings hanging down in front of him. He has scant hair on his chest and then it begins again in a vertical line leading down into his shorts, pointing to what I imagine is a black mass of hair surrounding the base of his cock and balls. I shake my head to discipline my mind away from that image.

"What is wrong with you?" I murmur as the mental image of the naked young man refuses to dissolves.

I turned the lights on in my bedroom and tossed the robe onto the bed and stretched long and hard in my light blue panties and brassiere. I moved about the room tidying up briefly, hoping the movement would catch his eye. Without looking toward the pool, I unsnapped the bra and tossed it toward the hamper. I did my normal stretching exercise on the treadmill, then straddled it before hopping on and beginning a slow jog. My breasts bounced as I jogged and I caught a glimpse of Eric paused in his labors, leaning on the sweep and staring into my bedroom.

The familiar tingle of being naked for him came over me and I flushed with pleasure as the treadmill speeded up one notch. Of course, going braless while jogging isn't exactly best practice, but I knew the movement my breasts took from the motion had to attract more of his attention. He had caught on to the fact that I exercise each morning for a few minutes in my underwear.

The image of him being nude ran across my mind as I jogged. My panties were getting moist from my teasing. He continued watching me as he made a show of sweeping the surface of the pool and I smiled that most of his attention was on my breasts.

I slowed the machine and got off to do a few exercises. I faced away from him to let him see the tight panties across my bottom then glanced back on the swiveling exercises to see if he was still enjoying my body. He was. And I was enjoying it too. My nipples were very hard with the thought of him watching me so closely and I was definitely moist with excitement.

Finally, I turned and faced him through the window. Legs spread wide, I rested a moment, hands on hips. He looked away and went at his task for a minute or two and then turned back and sneaked a look to find me still looking in his direction. Slowly, he became comfortable looking at me steadily. My nipples tingled.

My heart was beating a little faster as I slowly gathered the nerve to slide my hand into my panties, still staring idly in his direction. I was shocked when Eric leaned on his sweep once again and very slowly slipped his hand into the front of his trunks, emulating my motion.

My eyes must have been like saucers as I tried to pretend not to notice. I could see that he first scratched himself and then gripped himself, his cock, his balls, or both. My breathing halted a moment at the brazen way he had done it. We stood staring at each other, our hands in our crotches. My breathing resumed, my heart rate bounced up again.

I realized that we were both silently signaling that each knew what we were doing. It was silly, but I decided to break it off by pretending that I had just noticed him. I pulled my hand out and waved to him in a self-mocking way. Eric took his hand off his cock and waved and smiled.

I picked up my white T-shirt and put it on as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be dressing in front of him. As he watched, I pulled on a white shorts and left the bedroom. In the hallway, I stopped to lean against the wall, breathing hard over what I had just done.

When I had calmed down I took two cokes from the refrigerator, scooped ice into glasses and took them outside on a tray. I called to Eric and we sat on the patio with our cokes and cookies.

"How are you this morning, Eric? No sun, so it's not so hot for you, eh?"

"Oh, not too bad. I take it slow."

"Had to do my exercises this morning. I've been skipping it too often." I said, acknowledging what we both knew, that I had just put on a show for him.

"Yeah." He said quietly. "You look good." He looked away and swigged the coke.

Was his meaning that he enjoyed me being naked? I couldn't be sure.

"Thanks. I can always count on you for a nice compliment! You're a sweetie!"

We were silent for a few minutes and it was clear that he was still a little tongue-tied around me. I tried again.

"Your mom told me you are dating Jenny Smith. That serious?"

"Mom said that? Nahhhh!"

"Just friends?"

"Yeah. We study..."

"Oh. I remember those days. Mothers are always too curious, aren't they? And always trying to push things along. I remember my first boyfriend. He took me to the theatre down the street one afternoon. He tried to kiss me and I smacked him! It's funny now."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I got over that and started liking it by the next boyfriend."

"I've had that experience." He said.

"Oh, Jenny smacked you? That's hard to believe, handsome devil like you." I laughed.

"Slapped me. Hard!"

"Maybe you did something..." I stopped.

"Maybe."

"Not that difficult ... kissing ... do you like it?"

"Not much experience." He laughed. "So far I'm not impressed.

"Do anything else? Touching, I mean, that sort of thing."

He just looked away and shook his head.

"Oh my god ... It's starting to rain! Help me take the clothes down, will you."

We ran to the clothesline and I picked up the plastic basket and began pulling things off the line. Eric soon had hands-full of my colorful collection of panties and brassieres to dump into my basket. He looked a little sheepish.

"Did you ever think you would be pulling my panties down, Eric?" I grinned at him and I saw that his face was beet red. "Oh that came out wrong ... sorry, sweetheart!" He laughed and our eyes met and made it all right. He still had two pairs in his hand.

"You wear pretty things." He gasped.

The rain began pelting down and we ran to the little dressing room next to the pool and ducked inside where we could watch the rain. I remembered that I wasn't wearing a brassiere under the white T-shirt and my nipples were now clear and prominent under the soaked shirt. I pulled it away from my body self-consciously.

"Ohmigod, I'm transparent." I laughed trying to keep it light.

Eric was trying desperately not to stare at my breasts plastered with the cotton shirt. I actually turned toward him and the tingle ran through my body as I displayed them for his eyes. It was a lovely naughty feeling. The poor guy tried looking everywhere but his eyes were on autopilot back to my nipples jutting against the fabric. You could see the dark areola too. I loved the rain. My shirt was nice and tight and my breasts looked full and round for him.

"So where did you kiss her?"

"On the lips"

I grinned. "I figured, I meant where, in your car, in the movie, you know, like that?"

"Oh, at her house. Studying in her bedroom."

"Wooooo! " I teased. He blushed even a deeper shade and his eyes went back to my breasts. I turned and posed for him, my nipples jutting impressively.

"Eric, it's difficult going through these years. If you ever want to discuss anything, or ask anything you don't want to go into with your mom ... you can always come to me. I would be glad to give straight answers. You know?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, I know ... thanks."

"I don't want to put any pressure on you ... but would you like to practice kissing? I mean, with me, for instance?"

His eyes were as big as saucers. " ... Uh ... really? That would be cool. Really?"

I smiled and nodded. "Sure ... if you want ... I mean I'm not young and fresh like Jenny ... I could pretend ... I remember being her age." I laughed and he finally laughed too.

"You mean, like, now?"

"Why not? We're stuck in the rain. Show me how you kissed her. I promise not to slap you."

Eric took a very deep breath and pried his eyes from my tits, faced me. His eyes rolled a little, seemed to be thinking back.

"Where did you have your hands?

"Oh ... yeah. Uh, like this." He put one hand on my waist and the other took my hand. He leaned forward, eyes closed. His lips were a little off to the side and I turned to help him. He pushed a little too hard and our teeth bumped.

"Kinda ... like that..."

"Nice. Maybe you could 'think 'soft' when you kiss at first. Here, hold still and let me show you." I put my fingers on his chin and held him steady and pressed my lips softly to his. He was holding his breath. So was I.

"Oh, wow..."

"Or, if your hands are on her waist, like this." I put my hand on his waist and squeezed one of his hands and leaned forward to press my lips softly against his and hold it. I felt him lean into the kiss a little.

"Or you might start with a kiss on the cheek if she is skittish about being kissed. It might have been that you were in her bedroom, though that made her afraid of her mother catching you. Mothers remember their wild days and are always on the lookout for their daughters to get in trouble like they did." I laughed and hugged my young friend, feeling my wet breasts press against his manly chest.

"Let me try that... ?" He was starting to get into the swing of the thing and I was also finding it exciting.

His eyes were open this time and it was clear he was intent on trying this new soft technique.

"Think 'soft'" I murmured just before his lips touched mine.

His lips touched mine very lightly and then moved slightly, making a very nice kiss. My nipples jumped.

"Ohhhhhh, Eric ... That was lovely! " I said quietly. He stayed close and stopped my words with one more lovely kiss.

"The next step would be quite a step. And you wouldn't try this on Jenny for quite a while. Want to try?"

He was eager now. I put my lips to his and he pressed back just a little. I slipped the tip of my tongue along his lips. I felt him shiver slightly, just like you should. I waited until he got up the nerve to test his own tongue against mine. The tingle shot down my body and engaged my pussy.

"Wow..." he said quietly.

"French kiss, or soul kiss, now don't tell me you haven't heard of that?"

"Heard of it, sure! But never tried it. Ohmigod, Mrs. Barton ... wow!"

"You like? Remember that's for much later. Don't rush her."

"I had about six or eight boy friends in high school, Eric. One at a time. I was a faithful girlfriend, one at a time. But they are all lovely memories now. I hope your high school years produce memories like that, too.

"I'm behind a few, then." He said, ruefully.

"That's OK, it isn't a race. And I think you are wonderful."

"Mrs. Barton ... I ... think..." I kissed his mouth closed.

"It's OK, Eric, I know we are friends! And by the way, do you like these?"

His face went very red.

"Just kidding!"

"I was staring ... I'm sorry." He had a wonderful boyish grin on his face.

"Did you ever think I might just enjoy you looking at them? At my breasts? Well, Eric ... I do!" The end of my sentence was breathy and I knew I shouldn't be saying such things to this teenager. It was indecent.

"Really?"

"Yes. Here feel my heart thumping?" I put his hand under my breast flat against my ribcage. The top of his palm touched the under-curve of my breast and I could tell that I was moist between my legs. Our thighs had been touching for quite awhile and the wide spot touching seemed to radiate heat. I knew we should stop this before it got crazy.

"Let me know when its time for the next lesson, sweetheart! Look the rain has stopped."

We went in the house, him carrying the basket and me going ahead to open the doors.

"Do you mind helping me fold these?"

I lead the way into the master bedroom where my discarded panties and bra were lying on the floor where I had exercised for him earlier. And we sat on my bed and I showed him how I like my panties folded and we had quite a stack of lacy, silky undies between us before we finished.

"I better be going." He said. He stood up carefully and I could see his prick tight against his swim trunks. I was a lady and didn't touch it as I so wanted to do.

I sent him home to his mother instead.

—————

I put my folded panties in my special panty drawer and spritzed it with my antique crystal perfume bottle with the little hose and bulb arrangement. I keep it filled with one of the delicious scents from Prada. It always makes me feel almost rich when I put on a silky pair of panties and the Prada seems to envelope me. I smiled at my little fun morning with Eric. He is so cute. And he is getting comfortable with my kidding him.

I see no reason that my husband needs to know that I am enjoying being a showoff as much as he is. He started all this, and I am not letting him know that I have come around to being thrilled by it. I still have trouble understanding what he gets out of putting me in front of other men showing ... well, everything.

I sat down and daydreamed for a minute remembering the look on Eric's young face when my shirt went transparent after the rain. He looked darling trying not to let me see that he was looking at my nipples showing through the fabric. He is too young to know that women like sex, too. A tingle went through my body thinking about it. And then thinking about what it would have been if I had taken the shirt off in front of him. I shivered with the thought and slipped my hand down the front of my panties and closed my eyes. The smile on my face would have shocked my husband.

And speaking of David, he has now formed an alliance with Jeannette, the owner of the little fashion boutique in our suburb. Jeanette knows all my sizes and also knows my taste. I think I could just tell her how much I want to spend on a dress and she would have just the right item when I walked in the door. It had been very nice doing business like this. And now, David has taken to going to the shop and buying things for me. She always tells me that she knows it isn't my taste, but it is what he wanted to buy for me to wear. You wouldn't or couldn't wear any of the things he buys to church if you know what I mean. But, it is cute of him, even if I protest that they can only be worn in our home, say for one of our romantic dinners, where I cook and after a suitable amount of wine he makes wild love to me.

David, however, frequently talks me into going out where I am the center of male attention in a dress that shows my legs, my boobs and other things he thinks are appealing. I'm still not letting him know that I enjoy it. I protest and act like I am only doing it for him.

Tonight we are going out to Antoine's for dinner and I will wear the latest showy dress. It is beautiful, but a little flashier than I would choose. It is a rich blue-gray, with a very outsize gold belt buckle cinching in my waist. The neckline is slashed all the way to the buckle and the slit in the front of the skirt opens almost all the way to the buckle from the other end. My legs then are exposed when I walk within an inch or two of panty territory. He bought a deep plunging brassiere which is black and has transparent cups with only a little leafy pattern around the edges, but the center is completely open to show my nipples. Even with the bra being built specially for such a dress, the bottom of the wire in the center is visible, making for a peek-a-boo effect in addition to my bare flesh cupped toward the center. Between my breasts is a visible flat space surrounded by two round, luscious mounds. It is going to be interesting to see how much attention this draws. You've probably seen such a dress on a Vegas showgirl.

There was time for a lingering bath with a sprinkle of Prada in the water for good measure. The body powder is quite a delicate scent and I dusted my body sparingly and caressed it around my breasts. The bra was perfect, even if a bit strange construction in order to allow a deep décolletage' dress. Pads pushed me toward the middle and upward and I could see that the dress was going to be spectacular. The matching panties were hipster cut, which is best for me and the back was completely see-thru, the front the same but with a rose artfully pointing to my pussy without really obscuring anything. I pulled them up my legs and turned around in front of the mirror. I hope he isn't planning on showing that view by lifting my skirt in public. I can only hope.

A black garter belt and sheer stockings completed the underwear ensemble. I inspected the stockings by inserting my arm in them very carefully. A run would spoil everything. I pulled the first one up tight and raised my leg high like you see in those stocking ads in olden times and giggled at myself in the mirror. My legs, I admitted, looked gorgeous in the stockings. And they felt wonderfully sensual. My god, I was starting to like this.

I was just preparing to slip the dress on as David walked in.

"Oh my god, you are gorgeous like that! Why don't we stay home and you don't have to wear the dress even?"

"Oh, no you don't, buddy, it's too late to change the plan now. I am going to let Antoine do his best for me tonight. But you like?"

"I like!" he said, kissing me and sliding his hands immediately down the back of my panties.

"Stop that. You will muss me!" I complained.

'OK, but I am going to have you later, my girl!" He slapped my nylon-covered bum and I buckled the wrap-around dress in place. I adjusted my breasts a little and turned from side to side to see just what kind of view I was about to offer. "Not bad for an old girl."