My Horny Neighbour Ch. 01

Introduction

Bill is my neighbour. He watches me in the garden from his upstairs window. He stays away when my husband helps. Bill only watches when I work alone. I often wave so he knows I see him. He waves back, most of the time. Sometimes his hands stay out of sight.

The afternoon sun is hot on my shoulders. This weeding can wait. I need a break. I need a cold drink. I keep a cool-box in the shed.

I pick a cold bottle of water from the cool-box and twist the top. I lift another and place it against the inside of my thigh. I pull at my long skirt. A cool breeze blows in through the doors of the shed. I welcome it's cool kiss on the insides of my thighs.

My plain white thong hides out of sight from Bill. My skirt protects my modesty. Until a wicked thought crosses my mind.

I shift in my seat and pull my skirt all the way up. My skirt lies bunched up around my waist. My pale thighs part as I explore the cool touch of the chilled water bottle.

I let the cool walls of the plastic bottle wander. The bottle rolls up one thigh and down the other.

My sunglasses hide my eyes. Bill cannot tell if my eyes are open or closed. He doesn't know I can see him at his bedroom window. His hands move, out of sight. He masturbates while watching me.

I pull the front of the thong to one side. I slide the bottom corner of the bottle against my slit. The condensation glistens on my folds.

I apply a little force against my clit. Cold pressure mixes temperature with a jolt of pleasure and my hips buck against the bottle. I imagine Bill's cock in his hand. He will be enjoying the view. He doesn't move an inch. His wrist moves faster and faster then slows to a stop. He repeats this again and again.

I watch him as he watches me.

He reminds me of my husband, Tony, when he catches me in the shower. Tony is allowed to touch. He often does. I often hear the bathroom door open while I shower. I turn around and my husband's trousers lie scrunched around his ankles. Sometimes, he keeps his distance. Other times, he strips off and rubs his cock against me while he plays. Or he might just fuck me, there and then, as the water cascades down over us.

He has always done this. Ever since we first married. He made it clear, early on in our marriage he enjoyed watching me. We matured together. For me, that means my tits are a lot larger. Also, my nipples stay stiff for a good part of the day. Tony loves all that.

I spread my thighs even further on my stool in the shed. My brazen cunt needs attention. She needs the excitement of showing off for our elderly neighbour. She also needs to get off. I need to cum.

A variety of garden tools lie on the tool bench. I love to buy new tools for my gardening. I bought a new trowel yesterday. I see it in the open bag. I lift it from the bag and inspect the handle. It looks thick and durable. It will make an excellent fuck toy.

The handle slips between the thick folds of my cunt with little effort. The unforgiving wood does not quit. The rounded tip is an inch thick. It spreads me without mercy. Three recesses, meant for better grip, disappear inside my cunt. All three recesses invade my hole.

My seat is a camping stool. My entire weight bears down on it. My naked arse cheeks spill over the sides of the striped fabric. I have always carried my weight on my hips. My large, saggy tits carry that burden too.

When I was thirty, I replaced the bras I wore. They became too tight. My new 38EE bras fit better. They contained and supported my tits. By the time I was forty, I wore a 40FF. Now, in my fifties, I wear a 42GG. My tits always grow. So do my hips. I have wide hips and big tits.

Big tits are Bill's thing. He stares at mine when we chat over the garden fence. I sometimes strike up a conversation when I fancy some attention. My big tits never fail me.

The trowel is slick with my arousal. My cunt is wet. My pussy lips soak the glossy finish of the wood. I imagine Bill's dick in his fist. His gaze doesn't move from my twat.

I wank harder with the thick handle. I use a second hand. I pull it inside me. And pull it back out. In and out. In and out. Again and again. In and out.

My pussy tightens. I am not far off. I watch Bill's fist work faster and faster.

I plunge the handle inside my cunt. I twist the handle as I ride it. The stool squeaks under my weight. My tits bounce in my low-cut T-shirt.

I pull the thick wood in and out, in and out.

I rub my clit. I rub my clit hard and twist the wooden handle inside my twat. My mind spins. I whip the handle out and plunge the unforgiving girth straight back in.

In and out. In and out.

I rub my clit. I rub it even harder. Flutters fill my tummy. I lose my concentration as my orgasm washes through my hips. My fingers rub and push and press and slide and flick at my clit as waves of pleasure rush through my cunt.

Nature and I are one. Bill watches with a pained expression. He hunches while he watches and then disappears from the window.

We came at the same time.

And here I am. Alone again. But satisfied.

I pull the thong back where it belongs.

My begonias need my attention.