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~Sharon's Entertainment~
© 2004 Jude
Mason
Sam had
been watching her for weeks. He was sure she knew it, the way she showed off
when he was there proved it. Most often he'd stand by the big Maple tree,
leaning against it, peering into her bedroom window. Even his position had
been her idea. Oh hell, better start this at the beginning.
"Sam, could you go around back and turn the water on for me, please?" Sharon
asked. She had the hose out and the big bucket for washing the car, soap and
sponge already in it.
"Sure, where is it?" Sam had called back innocently as she dropped the
bucked and headed for the front door. Sharon hadn't changed yet. She still
had on her skirt and frilly blouse from her recent shopping trip. Washing
the car had been a spur of the moment decision it seemed, when Sam had shown
up.
"Big Maple, just to the right of it, you can't miss it," she'd yelled
opening the door, "I'll be back in just a second; I have to get out of these
clothes." And with that, she'd gone inside and that's when this story really
begins.
Sam had walked down the driveway to the back of the house, and headed for
the Maple tree. Sharon's back yard wasn't big, and that tree took up a huge
chunk of it, but it gave great shade in the summer heat and it also kept her
yard maintenance to a minimum. A few smaller shrubs against the back of the
house, some viney things along the fence between her place and the
neighbors, and that was it.
Sam spotted the tap just where she'd said it would be.
Her window was huge, and right there in front of him. When he'd bent over
and turned the faucet on, he'd looked up, innocently, expecting to see into
the living room or something. His jaw had dropped and he'd stopped
breathing.
Sharon was in her bedroom, not ten feet from where
he stood. Sharon was naked.
Sam froze. His cock had lurched threatening to tear a hole in the front of
his shorts as it expanded, stiffened.
"My God," he'd sighed, afraid to blink in case she
disappeared. Then, with his head swimming, he'd remembered to breathe. Tap forgotten, he'd
straightened up and took another deep shuddering breath. Got brave and
blinked.
She was still there. Sharon, red headed, outrageously busty, voluptuous,
magnificent, mouth-watering Sharon. She had her back to him, at that moment,
but even looking at her from that angle had him sweating in rivers. Her
round ass and shapely long legs were like magnets, and he had no intensions
of fighting the pull. She'd stood in front of her closet; arms outstretched
reaching for what she planned on wearing he'd assumed. A handful of sky-blue
something came with her hands when she'd turned and walked towards him.
"My God," he'd repeated and almost laughed. His vocabulary suffered greatly
when he was shocked and turned on he'd mused. Nipples the size of dollars
topped the most perfect breasts he'd ever seen. In all his thirty-four
years, nothing as amazing as those had presented themselves to him. Round
and firm looking, sitting high on her chest with a deep cleft between them,
his mouth had watered just thinking of what he'd like to do to those
beauties.
His hand had slipped inside the waistband of his shorts, as if it a mind all
its own. He realized it only when he felt the grip on his cock, and moaned.
Sharon had tossed the blue bit of clothing onto the bed and Sam thought the
show was almost over. But, to his delight it was nowhere near done. His
vision of loveliness had sat on the lone chair in the room. One facing the
window, but at a slight angle so he assumed she was looking at herself in a
mirror. She'd reached forward and he wondered what she was doing, until her
hand had reappeared, holding a handful of bright pink ribbons. There was a
smile on her face as she'd tugged and twisted at a nipple with one hand then
wound the ribbon around the eraser sized nubbin of tawny brown flesh. She'd
pulled; each time around she'd tightened it, making her nipple stand proudly
out at least an inch from the surrounding mound.
He'd watched her take a deep breath before repeating the procedure with her
other nipple. Each pull of her fingers, he'd echoed with his own, pulling
and twisting at the aching joint between his legs. His shorts and underwear
had become an encumbrance and quickly found their way down his legs, pooled
around his ankles in his haste to free himself.
"Ah!" he'd sighed and felt his balls tighten.
More ribbon in hand, she'd leaned forward and her ample, luscious breasts
had hung free of her body. He'd to squeeze the tip of his suddenly over
stimulated cock when he saw her wind a length of ribbon around the base of
her breast. Tighter and tighter she pulled it, forcing her boob to push
further out. The flesh colored, turned that wonderful shade of mottled
purple he'd dreamed of seeing. The other mound followed the first and he saw
her frown when her wrist brushed a nipple.
Both breasts bound, oh so sweetly bound, he'd thought and stroked the tip of
his cock, luxuriating in the aching need that made him tremble. For an
instant he'd closed his eyes, picturing his hands on her. Just his
fingertips at first, sliding over the taut stretched flesh of her breasts -
feeling the heat of her, and then carefully pulling on her ribbon bound
nipples - stroking one then the other, while she arched her back pushing
those lovely mounds towards him.
With a shudder, he'd dragged his eyes open, not wanting to miss the real
Sharon. Fantasy could wait, he'd reminded himself, but to see her for real,
well it may never happen again.
Blinking, mouth once more gaping in shock, she was gone. Frantically he'd
scanned the room and felt his cock sag in response to his disappointment.
Where could she have gone, why? Had she spotted him?
"Oh God," he'd moaned, dragging his shorts up. His cock was still swollen
and when he bent it to get it back into his shorts another moan slipped out.
Wriggling and squirming, he'd managed to get his fly done up and the water
turned on all the way before heading around to the front of the house. He
knew he was flushed, could feel the heat in his face. And every time he'd
closed his eyes, she was there. And his erection had grown painfully against
the leg of his shorts.
Sam had rushed around to the front of the house, not sure if she'd be there
waiting or still inside. He'd crammed his hand into his pocket and took hold
of his cock through the thin material. Furtively he'd tried to straighten
the uncomfortable kink in the middle of his shaft, hoping Sharon wasn't able
to see him through one of the many windows.
And there she was. That tiny bit of pale blue material turned out to be a
dress, summery and light, but enough to cover her from her neck down to
mid-thigh.
Sam had stopped, dead in his tracks. He knew his mouth had dropped open
again, but he couldn't make it shut. The muscles in his jaw just wouldn't
cooperate.
To read the rest of this tale, visit
Darker
Pleasures
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prohibited without written approval of the
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