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By Anonymous Author (c) 1989

My next-door neighbor Patty reminded me a lot of Carol. Both had beautiful dark hair and exceptionally pretty faces, and although Carol was tall and Patty short, there was still something about both of them that somehow made them sisters. And while Carol, with her almond-shaped green eyes and long fine legs looked erotic, Patty was the very definition of erotic.
"Do you like to masturbate?" Patty asked me softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the fan. We were sitting next door on her screened porch on a hot and humid Saturday afternoon sipping tall glasses of Lynchburg lemonade. I had just finished mowing my lawn when Patty called out from her porch and offered me a drink. I accepted, glad for the opportunity to cool off. My wife, Joy, was out grocery shopping and Patty's husband "Howie" had gone to play tennis.
As I entered the cool of her porch area through the screen-door, Patty smiled at me and handed me a towel, which I used to wipe the sweat from my face and neck, and then she went back into her kitchen to bring the drinks while I admired her porch. It was furnished with a large straw mat rug and white rattan furniture, cushioned in greens, the overhead fan humming and gently rustling the fronds of the huge ferns suspended from the beams under the roof.
She returned with a round tray bearing a pitcher filled with ice and sliced lemons and the light brown concoction made from Sprite, sweet and sour mix, and Jack Daniels, and poured the drinks into tall glasses, and then sat down across from me, her eyes looking at me from over the top of her glass. I could hear strains of "Afternoon Delight" playing softly from a radio somewhere in her house.
Patty was wearing blue jeans cut-offs and a light blue wrap-around top which tied behind her back, obviously no bra, and sandals on her bare feet. She was about thirtyfive at the time, and was a very striking and fine looking woman, her dark auburn-black hair full and shinny, and seductive dark green eyes that gave her the appearance of a cover girl. She had nice tits not too big, and wonderfully cute sexy legs, soft but well muscled from frequent jogging. Her upper lip was soft and full, like Ali McGraw's, and it bore a fine line of perspiration because of the heat of the day. Her eyes did not miss the fact that my eyes were eating her up, and the corners of her mouth turned up into a kind of smug knowing smile as she watched my eyes devour her.
We started chatting and somehow got philosophical, talking about how things in our lives had not turned out to be what we thought they would be, and the conversation moved along and became focused on our respective marriages. Patty offered the opinion that her sex life was one thing that fell into the group of things that hadn't turned out like she thought it would. "Thank God for masturbation," she giggled, flashing her seductive eyes at me, "the housewife's sanctuary."
We had been just "good friends" up to that point, but there was something between us and we both knew it. The mutual attraction was undeniable, and I had thought many times about what it would be like to feel her in my arms and make love to her, especially when I jerked off, needing a little relief when my wife wasn't around. Patty's fantasies ran parallel as I found out from this conversation.
I was intrigued rather than shocked with her question, and didn't answer her right away. She squirmed a little bit with the shamelessness of her expression of curiosity, but she saw that my eyes were already answering for me.
"Well...do you?" she asked a little more directly, knowing from my expression, but wanting to hear me say it anyway.
"Sometimes," I admitted, not sure enough of myself to tell her that I probably jerked off more than most guys. It wasn't from any lack of sexual satisfaction from my wife, but rather that I was just highly sexed, and it was something I had done since I was a kid, liking the sexual variety that I could conjure up as I fantasized about a variety of sexual situations.
She looked at me and smiled deviously. "If I didn't masturbate, I'd hardly have any sex life at all," she confided, without even the slightest hint of embarrassment. "I'd probably go crazy without it," she went on. "The trouble is, I'm starting to get hooked on it," she admitted, "And lately I've been thinking about you a lot... when I do it," she added, her eyes flashing.
The thought of her lying naked on her bed with her fingers playing between her incredibly sexy legs flashed through my mind. I thought it was pretty ironic that I might be jerking off too, while I fantasized about her, and not fifty feet away; separated by layers of drywall and vinyl siding, she might be diddling herself with the same fantasy at the same time.
"Well I wouldn't worry about it," I said. "I think almost everybody does it when they feel horny and just need a little quick relief," I said reasonably.
"Do you do it a lot?...uh, I mean, well, like as much as I do?" she stammered. "I mean, well, like several times a week?" She was gazing at me, her hooded eyes looking directly into mine. I wondered why she was asking me these questions. Was she just trying to put her particular sexual vice in perspective? Or was this leading up to something?
"Uh...well, yeah, I probably do it that much on average," I answered. My dick was stirring in my shorts with this turn of conversation. "And I also like to think about you when I do it," I admitted. Her eyes shown, the corners of her mouth turned up in a cherubic smile.
"Oh, God, that turns me on," she blurted out in a hushed voice, her cheeks turning pink. "I'm getting wet right now, thinking about it," she said matter-of-factly, and rather breathlessly.
There was a pause in the conversation and her sexy eyes were pleading with me to make the next move. I wondered if she was wishing she were alone right now so she could masturbate, or if she was feeling horny enough to masturbate right now, right here in front of me. I certainly was feeling aroused, and I couldn't help picturing her fingering her hot little slit while she watched me jerk off.
My cock was now fully erected, tenting the front of my shorts, and Patty's eyes hadn't missed the spectacle either. "Would you like to show me how you do it?" I asked softly. "I'd love to watch you do it for me."
Patty smiled, calculating, her eyes cutting away to survey the distant homes across our back yards, and then she scrunched the back of her perfect ass down to the edge of her chair and looked back at me, the movement causing her cut-offs to ride up, and I could see the puffy outline cunt-lips pressing against the material of her cut-offs. She knew I could see it, her eyes following mine, and then falling to my crotch as my cock throbbed, lifting the front of my shorts to the rhythm of my heartbeat.
"And what would you do if I did?" she asked coquettishly.
What would I do? I thought quickly...sensing that my answer might be critical. The answer was obvious. She had started the direction of this conversation by telling me that she masturbated, and we had both just admitted that we jerked off fantasizing about each other. Fuck, she WANTED to do it right now, but she wanted complicity. She was unwilling to gamble; to take it further without my taking the lead. That would indemnify her against being embarrassed if I turned her down.
"I'd have to do it with you?" I said quietly, my cock applauding by raising itself up again, tenting the front of my shorts even more. Her eyes were zeroed in on the swelling between my legs, and she wet her pouty lips with a swish of her pointy pink tongue. When she raised her eyes up to look at my face, I could see that they had grown sleepy with lust, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile of understanding, and she drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. She readjusted herself, squirming nervously in her chair and I saw that her nipples had grown taunt, sticking out through the material of her halter.
She frowned then, as if making a difficult decision, or perhaps at the kinkiness of the whole idea, like someone would frown when tasting something delicious for the first time and savoring the taste.
"Well then..." she sighed and reached for the buttons of her cut-offs; opening them with her delicate fingers one-by-one. She wasn't wearing any panties and that became immediately evident as she exposed the smooth skin of her abdomen and the dark muff of her crotch. She lifted her hips, momentarily suspending herself between her shoulders and her feet, and let the cut-offs slide down her smooth shapely legs to rest around her ankles. Her eyes were on me again, watching for my reaction, and then she spread her delicious thighs apart and I found myself looking directly at the exposed puffy gash of her splendid naked snatch.
I momentarily thought about her husband Howie. He was a big man, probably twice the weight of Patty, and I knew without really knowing that his equipment must be in the same proportion as his body. I envisioned as I stared at her wonderful sex; Howie's big long cock working its way in and out of the hot pink hole.
I was brought back to the moment when she reached for the gathering of the clear nectar at her opening with the middle finger of her other hand and drew it upward through her cleft and spread it over her clitoris as if she were spreading lemon-butter over a pealed shrimp, and I watched, fascinated, as she teased herself with her slippery fingers. It was clear by the expression on her face, the turned-up corners of her mouth and the hunger in her eyes that she was enjoying masturbating in front of me.
I have seen my wife, Joy, masturbating again and again, and I can't count how often I've done it with her. That was one of the things that my wife and I found we had in common back when we were dating. And I had watched girls do it in sex videos and it always made my cock get hard. The idea of watching my delicious sexy neighbor Patty doing it right in front of me was making my cock painfully hard, throbbing with the need to be squeezed and stroked.
"Well...?" she said expectantly. I reached down and pulled the leg band of my sweaty shorts to one side, and then my sweaty briefs, and dug my cock out. It stood straight up, proud and erect, and she looked at it and spread her legs a little further apart, thrusting her hips forward as if her body was reaching for me. Her fingers continued to gloss over her shiny clit, pleasuring it as I closed my fingers around my hard-on and squeezed it, beginning to pull it up and down, jerking off for her and at the sight of her masturbating in unison.
"You want to see my clit?" she breathed, and before I could react, she pursed her lips in a kiss and reached down with her other hand and spread the flat lips of her sweet sex, and with her fingers, pulled the skin of her mons upward so that her clitoris stood up, peeking out from under her clitoral hood. She had a rather large clit, much larger than my wife's, about the size of the end of my little finger, and almost a half-inch long, I wondered for a moment if girl's clits get enlarged from frequent masturbation.
I wanted to get down between her sexy legs and kiss and lick her there, but held back, not wanting to go too far. The opening of her vagina clenched as she watched my eyes do what I had thought about doing. Then she began to rub her clitoris again, masturbating wantonly as I jacked my cock watching her, her finger alternately pressing against her lips and then running down into the valley between the wide petals of her cunt.
"You've got a nice dick Brad," she whispered admiringly, "just like I pictured it," her eyes glazing with the erotic enjoyment of what we were doing.
I was glad that she thought I was big, and wanted to return the complement. "You've got a really nice body," I whispered in return. Then inspiration hit, "Show me your tits," I said, and immediately she tugged the cross-tied material of her top up and exposed her breasts to me. They were really nice, firm, and rounded on the undersides, her pink aureole smooth and not too large, supporting her small but up-turned hard nipples. Teenage size tits, just like I thought they would be. I'd imagined seeing them in the flesh every time I'd seen her in a tight top, or out back at the pool in her skimpy swimsuit.
She cupped one in her left hand and gently squeezed her nipple between thumb and forefinger as the fingers of her other hand continued to work at her clitoris. Almost every time I've watched my wife masturbate, she has played with her nipples while she did it. That has been a strong clue for me about how to get my wife to climax when I do it for her.
"I want to see you...come for me," she whispered. "Pump your cock and make your jizz squirt out for me."
Her words were hardly out of her mouth before my cock seized up and surged out the precum that lubricates the passage for the real thing. I grasped my dick at the root and squeezed hard, stemming the sensation of my orgasm, and when the tremendous need to squirt off had passed, I slicked the slippery jizz over my cock and jacked it up and down, my hand making little "slick-slick-slick" sounds as I stroked it back and forth.
"I almost came," I muttered.
"Yeah...I saw," she answered, her eyes glistening, and she dinked her finger into the opening of her vagina, masturbating faster now and with more purpose.
"Now you can watch me come," she said, her voice quaking, the pad of her middle finger rubbing incessantly over her rigid clit. We watched each other masturbate for several more minutes like that, Patty holding her breast with one hand and flicking her clit with the other while I jerked off watching her.
We didn't talk any more. There was no need for it. We were both getting off on watching each other live out the fantasy of jerking off while watching each other masturbate.
Then she leaned back in her chair, intent on making herself orgasm, and spread her labia apart with her fingers as she aroused herself faster and faster. I noticed a blush forming across her chest as she brought herself closer, straining to reach her climax.
Watching her masturbate so uninhibitedly made me want to come with her, and my fist started to go into overdrive on my dick, jerking faster now, and I felt my climax coming again.
"Ohhhh....," Patty breathed, "...cumming..." she panted, and then her face wrinkled as the convulsions of her climax welled up in her body and she began to experience the sweet release of her orgasm. Her eyes glazed, exposing the depth of her pleasure, and then her mouth formed the long letter "O" as her climax came full force, her pelvis jerking, and as I watched her masturbate to her feeling, I came too, my fist pumping out a large squirt of semen as I came with her.
At the last moment, I grabbed the damp towel she had given me and held it in front of my dick and squirted off into it, jetting off gobs of cum into the cloth so that I wouldn't spoil her straw rug, groaning as my hand pumped the jizz out of my cock. She watched me jerk out the spurts of cum as she had her climax, each of us taking our pleasure from watching the other orgasm.
When it was over, Patty smiled at me, flushed from her having had her gratification and said, breathlessly, her face flushed, "That was fun...," and then she simply pulled her top back down and adjusted it, and pulled her cut-offs back up and refastened them as I stuffed my spent dick back into my shorts. In just minutes it was over, like it had never happened at all.
She took a long sip from her glass as she looked at me again.
"I'd like to do that again sometime," she paused, "...when we have more time."
I lifted my glass in a toast. "Anytime," I answered simply, astonished at what had just happened.