No

“Of course not,” I thought to myself. I was being paranoid. I hopped up to shut the window and blinds. My heart was racing. Maybe I was being paranoid, but the thought of being caught had stirred some unexpected feelings. I had just brought myself to orgasm, but I was already tingling again. I took a deep breath. The idea of my 18 year old neighbor hearing me in the throws of pleasure was so … dirty. Tommy was barely in high school, he had thick curly red hair and an acne scarred complexion; how could the thought of him turn me on? I shuddered and shook the thought away. I was just having a confusing night.

I got in bed and fell asleep almost immediately, thankfully. When I woke up, Paul wasn’t beside me. I only partially expected to find him there. I regretted having deleted our photos. I still wanted my husband back. A part of me still wanted to check the rest of the house; maybe he had come back but decided to sleep in the guest bedroom. The rest of me knew better. I didn’t bother looking.

I wanted to get my mind off things. Tommy’s parents had a pool in the backyard; they were always gracious enough to let all the neighborhood kids use it whenever they wanted. I was sure they wouldn’t mind if I did. I went to the dresser and put on my bathing suit. It was a two-piece, a bit skimpy, with a thong bottom. I had bought it for, and only used it during my honeymoon. For a moment, I considered whether it was too risqué, but decided that with a matching wrap, it would be fine. When I was in the water, surely nobody would notice. There was also a good bit of boob clearly visible from the side, but it was a bikini - none of them were designed with the modest girl in mind. Still, I threw a white tee-shirt on over it, just in case, and headed out the door.

Outside, it was already warm at ten in the morning, but it was beautiful outside. The sun was bright, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I had my sunglasses on, hoping to nap poolside. I had fallen asleep quickly, but it was hardly a restful night. I walked across my lawn to the neighbors’ porch. I noticed their car wasn’t in the driveway, and the lights were off. “Shit,” I thought aloud. I had hoped to at least ask permission as a formality. I knocked on the front door anyway, but, as expected, no answer. I let out an exasperated sigh, and weighed my options.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind,” I thought, again, aloud. I walked around the side of the house and opened the gate to their backyard. I paused for a moment to admire the neatly kept flower bushes and deck area. There were a few large old oak trees that towered above our shared property line that helped shade the area. It also helped hide me from prying eyes. In one of them, mostly obscured from view, Tommy had constructed a relatively sophisticated tree house some years back. I remember Paul helping Tommy’s father work on it quite a bit while we were still just dating. A sudden rustling of leaves brought me back to the present as a pair of birds darted from a branch just above the wooden structure.

I made my way across the path to the shaded pool and set my towel and glasses down. Just moving out of the sun to underneath the canopy of the leaves, I felt better. I hadn’t realized the warmth of the sun already had me sweating slightly in just the few minutes I had been outside. Glancing around for any signs of life, I saw none, and peeled off the tee shirt and removed the wrap. A gentle warm breeze filled my nostrils with the flowery smells of the garden nearby. It brought a smile to my face as I gingerly stepped into the water.

I swam a few laps, lazily, delighting in the rush of the wetness as it passed my skin. The water temperature was perfect. After a few minutes, I climbed aboard a floating plastic raft that had been left on the water and paddled myself toward the concrete. I reached out for my sunglasses and put them back on. The already shady pool area when near black and I closed my eyes.

I had a few minutes of peaceful rest before I woke up. I heard something above me. Without removing my glasses, I could see up into the leaves only barely. But, from my position, I was almost directly under the tree house and could just make out a head leaning out of a hole meant to function as a window. It was Tommy. Immediately, my thoughts raced back to last night. I assured myself once more that he hadn’t seen or heard anything. Of course, now, he was getting a pretty good view of me anyway. I may not have been naked or two fingers deep into my own snatch, but this bikini wasn’t leaving much for him to imagine.

I wondered if he had been there the entire time, and why he hadn’t made himself known. I imagined how embarrassed he’d be at this point if he was caught watching me. I decided to save him (and me) the trouble, and pretend to still be asleep. Surely, he’d gather the courage to leave sooner or later if he thought I was ****.

Minutes passed, and I heard the noises of the tree house creaking. He was moving a lot up there, but had not yet come down. I had closed my eyes, even though it was unnecessary for the ruse through the dark lenses, in hopes of actually perhaps returning to sleep, but the noise from the wooden planks made that impossible, now that I knew someone was up there.

A few more minutes passed, and I began to hear Tommy breathing, heavily. That was strange. The creaking was growing louder. I wondered if he was all right, and whether I should break the act and check on him. After all, he was just a kid; I needed to be a responsible adult here. Before I could decide, I heard something that made my heart race.

Softly, almost imperceptibly, I heard it, “Oh, shit Irene, you’re so hot.” He panted it between breaths and creaks. He was actually beating off to me in his playhouse. For only a moment, I was outraged, but that quickly turned to pity. He was eighteen years old. I knew he didn’t have many friends; his parents had always complained about he never left his room. I thought back to all the times I had seen neighborhood kids in his backyard, but couldn’t ever remember him being among them.

I doubted he had ever even kissed a girl, or dated one, no less. When I was his age, I was only a year away from losing my virginity, three years away from meeting Paul, and four years away from Paul’s and my first date. I remembered enjoying the carefree days of being a teenager, before my marriage and what had become of it. Another noise jolted me from my memories.

It was the unmistakable series of audible grunts that signaled Tommy had finished. I expected to be a bit disgusted by the noise, but remarkably, I wasn’t. Seconds later, Tommy was scurrying down the rope ladder and landed on the soft grass beneath the oak tree. I expected him to go inside the house, but instead, he walked delicately to the pool. “Mrs. M?”

“Shit,” I thought, this time not aloud. Pretending to be asleep wouldn’t work anymore, so I sat up and feigned a slight yawn. I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head, “Oh. Hi, Tommy. I didn’t think anyone was home. I hope you don’t mind that I came out for a dip.” I smiled, trying to look oblivious.

“N-no, it’s fine,” he stammered. He was trying to gauge whether or not I had heard him. I couldn’t help but think of the irony of him being as unsure of whether he had been caught as I was about last night. “I j-just got back home. I was over at a friend’s house. I just came out here to check on who was back here.”

He didn’t know that I knew he was lying. I would have known that was a lie even if I hadn’t seen and heard it all myself, just from the nervousness with which he said it. That, and the fact that he didn’t have any friends’ houses from which to come home. Another pang of pity shot through my chest. Tommy was clearly starved for companionship; I’d feel bad if I didn’t provide some. He was sweating from the activity in his tree house, and I saw an opening to pre-empt my guilt. “You look hot, Tommy, is it okay if we go inside and get something to drink?”

He shrugged, somehow even more nervously, “Sure, I guess.” He waited as I exited the pool. I grabbed my towel and dried off, letting it drop in a heap after I was done. He had been watching me, intently, as I did. I could almost see a twitch in his shorts as I dried my legs. Youth had its advantages. “Come on in,” he motioned me into the house.

As I followed, my thoughts drifted back to when I was his age again. I was the polar opposite of him; I was popular, had all the boys chasing after me, and couldn’t remember a single time being as nervous as he looked. Tommy wasn’t attractive, which was only heightened by the awkwardness of adolescence. He was scrawny and pock-marked. I wouldn’t have given him a second thought when I was in high school. I wondered if he would ever find a girl, kiss her, and eventually fuck her. I cringed at myself even thinking about Tommy having sex, but for a few more moments couldn’t stop myself from thinking about it. I thought about how, when I was eighteen, I lost my virginity to a much older man. I remember how much it changed me, and how I never regretted it. I looked at Tommy as he held the door open for me, and a nasty thought crossed my mind. Maybe it was time I returned the favor.

He told me I could wait on the couch and he’d get us some lemonade. I smiled and did just that. They had a leather sofa, and I was reminded that I was wearing a thong as the coldness spread across my cheeks. Tommy came in with two glasses and handed me one. He sat on the couch with me, but at an arm’s length. “Where are your parents, Tommy?”

“Oh, they’re out of town for the weekend.” I was partially hoping he’d say they were coming back soon, so I wouldn’t have a choice but to reconsider my current plan. Unfortunately, everything seemed to be falling into place. “They’ll be back Monday.”

“You mean you’re all alone?” I was holding the glass in my cleavage, sipping out of the straw he had provided. The condensation was making my newly dried skin wet again. “Most boys your age wouldn’t waste any time getting a girl over,” I teased.

“Uh … yeah, I don’t really know any girls.” He had snapped his head forward, trying not to look at my nearly naked body.

“Oh, well that isn’t entirely true, is it?” I moved closer to him and ran my fingers through his greasy hair. “You know at least one.”

He turned his head toward me, clearly uncomfortable. I took the hint and brought my hand back to my glass with an innocent smile. He eased a bit at the lower level of aggression. “Ahem, well, you don’t really count, though.”

“Why ever not?” I asked, in mock anger.

“Well, you know, you’re married and all.”

I laughed, “That doesn’t mean I’m not a girl. And you do know me, right?” he nodded, confused, “So, there you go, you know at least one girl. And look, you even have her on your couch.”

“I - I guess,” he stammered, “But it’s not like … it’s not like”

“Not like what, Tommy?” I had placed the glass on the coffee table in front of me and had taken to idly rubbing the inside border of one of my bikini cups.

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“Have you ever kissed a girl, Tommy?” I was ratcheting up the pressure again. Hopefully, he would be more responsive.

He looked at me, but quickly averted his eyes downward, “No, not even close.”

“Why not?”

He looked back up, and let out a self-deprecating laugh, “Because look at me. I’m not exactly what girls are looking for.”

I considered my response. This boy needed a confidence boost. That’s fundamentally what I was trying to do here. “You know what girls want, Tommy? More than a good looking or popular guy?” He shook his head. “We want a man with experience.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “Yeah, but how am I supposed to get experience without having any? It isn’t fair.”

“Well … maybe I can help.” I smiled again. “Would you like to kiss me, Tommy?”

His eyes went wide. “But, Mrs, M … I mean, what about your husband?”

I laughed. “What about him?” I thought to myself. To Tommy, I said, “It’s just a kiss, Tommy. I’m sure he won’t mind. I’m just being neighborly.”

He thought about it for just a moment, “Okay, yeah, I’d love that, Mrs, M.”

I leaned back against the armrest. “Well then, come and kiss, me. And, Tommy, call me ’Irene,’ from now on.”

A smile finally crept across his pimpled face. He leaned over me and put his hands on the sides of my face, cradling it. Gently, I moved one to my waist and the other to my back. He put his lips against mine, but kept them closed. I parted them with my tongue. It found its counterpart and began exploring his mouth. I put my arms around his neck and he squeezed my body against his. Soon his tongue was at home in my mouth and mine in his. After a few seconds, we broke the kiss, but I didn’t let him out of the embrace. He was looking into my eyes, “Wow, Mrs. - I mean, Irene.”

I ran my hand through his hair again. “That was very good, Tommy, what else do you want to try?” His eyes darted down to my breasts; I could feel his erection throbbing against my bare thigh through his pants. “It’s okay, Tommy, go ahead.”

He licked his lips in anticipation, but hesitated, “Irene, but, your husband. I mean, I don’t want to -”

I cut him off. “Tommy, don’t worry about him. Right now, pretend that I’m your girlfriend, who you have over with the house all to yourself. A girl doesn’t like her man to over think these things.”

“If you say so,” he didn’t need any more encouragement. His fingers worked quickly at untying the knot that held my top on and he tossed it aside. Instinctively, his hands moved to roughly massage and squeeze them. He moved his head into position to suck and lick at them. He was pawing and devouring my tits; I arched my back and tilted my head, letting out a long, satisfied moan.

My swimsuit bottoms were getting damp and they brushed against his erection as I squirmed beneath him. His lips broke contact with my nipples and he looked down toward my legs. “Can I - I mean are we …? Do you wanna?”

“Tommy, an experienced man takes control. It doesn’t matter what I want.” My lust was talking. That was hardly a lesson to give an inexperienced lover, but I was tired of him stopping so often to ask permission. He slid my bottoms down my leg, exposing my shaven pussy. He paused for a moment to admire it, before fishing out his own cock and positioning himself between my legs. Another moment of hesistation as he look me in the eyes. “That’s it, Tommy, take what’s yours.”

He wasn’t gentle as he pushed himself into me. He went all the way in on the first thrust. Luckily, he wasn’t very big, a meager 5 inches or so. I didn’t mind. To me, it was heaven having a man … even a boy, inside of me again. I let out a whimper of pleasure. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe this is happening,” he moaned in delight.

“Ooooh, believe it, baby, I’m all yours,” I purred as he began to thrust in and out of me. He hadn’t mastered pacing quite yet, but it didn’t bother me a bit. He leaned back over me and kissed me deeply. This time, his hands were on my tits, his hips bucking violently against me. I knew he wouldn’t last long, but neither would I. I felt myself approaching the edge.

He broke the kiss and looked at me while he fucked me, “You like that, baby? You like my cock inside you?” He was imitating what he had seen in internet porn.

“Oh, yes, Tommy, keep going. I’m close, baby.” He sped up and began tweaking my nipples. I was moaning constantly now. I felt myself go over. The feeling exploded inside me and I screamed into the morning air. I felt every square inch of my skin washed in a wave of heat, then a wave of cool refreshment. “Oh God, Tommy,” I whimpered over and over again.

He had lifted his head and I could feel his chest as his breathing became ragged. “Oh God, Irene, you’re so hot.“

I felt the sweat on my back roll down onto the couch and onto the small of my back as he thrust harder and harder. Finally, I felt him tense up and then the shooting sensation in my pussy. He held himself inside me as he shot six or seven loads of cum inside me. He then collapsed on top of me, his head resting against my breasts. I took a deep, satisfied breath, “Well, Tommy, congratulations, now you’re a man.”

He moved up my body and kissed me again. When we broke the kiss, he looked at me meaningfully.