This story contains mature or graphic content.
I’m outside, in the backyard, and I’ve driven the car around to wash it. It’s one of the last really hot days of the summer, when the sun seems to hang above forever, and everything is still green.
I have the hose out and I’m using it to rinse the car off. You come out the backdoor and you’re wearing a beautiful yellow sundress made of a light, flowing material. The shoulder straps are wide, as thick as my thumb, and the collar sits above your breasts while the back scoops down a bit. It drops down to below your knees, but material is light enough, and the skirt loose enough, that it looks to keep you very cool in the early September afternoon.
You’ve a laundry basket on your hip; full of some freshly washed white sheets just come from the washing machine. You hold it with one hand and shade your eyes with the other as you survey the backyard a moment before stepping quickly down the steps into the grass. Free spirit that you are, you’ve no shoes on, and you skip across the yard, pausing to press a quick kiss to my cheek on your way to the clothesline.
Starting at the line farthest away, you begin hanging the sheets and I go back to finish up washing the car, but I can’t help that every few moments, my eyes are returning to you. Your hair’s pulled into a tight ponytail at the back of your head, but as you work, some few strands have escaped and you push them out of your face when you turn to smile at me. I watch you, the little droplets of sweat that trickle down your neck, or that disappear between the tops of your breasts, and soon I realize, as a small cloud passes away from the sun, that from where I stand, the sun is behind you, and I can see the silhouette of your body through your sundress.
I can feel my heart begin to hammer watching you, as you bend to the basket and lift another sheet to pin to the line. I follow the curves of your legs as they rise to where they join, and the slope of your hips and bottom, the smoothness of your stomach below your petite breasts, and I know I need you.
As you finish, you turn away and pick up the basket and skip away, smiling at me and humming to yourself. You stop to look into the sky, the perfect blue of it all above us, and then you make your way over to me and reach to take the hose from me, telling me that you wish to help. I never stop to think that perhaps your motives aren’t so innocent … until you hit me full in the face with a blast of cold water!
You laugh delightedly as the water rushes at me, soaking my clothes, and after I recover, I dash at you and we wrestle for the hose. Sometimes we grab the buckets of water I’ve scattered around, sometimes we shoot one another with the hose, laughing all the while, teasing and taunting one another.
Finally we’re out of breath, panting and still giggling. Our games have led us farther into the yard, closer to the clothesline. I notice that your dress is entirely drenched, sticking to your skin, but now that which I could see before only in silhouette, I can see almost clearly through the wet fabric. Your nipples are two dark, mesmerizing points that stand through the cloth, I can see the ripple of your leg muscles, the soft indent of your belly button, and I can see that you’re wearing very simple and cute white panties.
Now that you’ve played your little trick, you see the hunger in my eyes and when I step forward and put my arms around you, you yield to me easily, wrapping your arms and legs around me tightly as we kiss and touch. But only after a few moments, you pull away and with a smoky, coquettish look, you step behind one of the hanging sheets.
The sun plays the same trick here that it did with your dress, and in shadow play I watch as you remove your dress, pulling it above your head. I watch your hands as you drape the dress over the line, and then your shadow as I see you bend and lifting each leg lightly, remove your panties and place them on the line next to your dress. You then pull the line down and fold your arms on top of it, resting your chin on them as you say to me, “Are you going to join me, or stand there dripping?”
With a wry grin, I dash around the sheet and find myself in a maze of white, fresh smelling walls, still damp and hanging heavily though waving slightly in the breeze. Though we’re outside, we’re still enclosed in this little world of white, where no eyes can see us.
I find you leaning on the line, one hand gripping it while the other hand on your waist. You stand nude and unabashed, and you laugh at the look on my face as my eyes devour you. You say, “Those wet clothes will never do. They’ll need to be dried.” And then you step forward and help me to remove my clothes, draping each item over the line.
Soon our chill skin warms as we kiss and touch, nibble and laugh, our hands and lips finding all the cold places where goose pimples form and easing them away. But clearly you’re still in a playful mood, because you dash away, slipping between the forest of sheets, laughing as I chase after you, until I stand in the center, spinning around smiling and looking for you.
Suddenly you spring out at me and we tumble to the ground, I upon my back and you above, your body mostly on the ground beside me but still hovering over me. We kiss, deeply, passionately.
You trail bites and kisses over my lips and chin to my neck while your hand caresses up my thigh until you take hold of me and you rub and touch to keep me warm. You kiss down my body, over my chest, until you take me into your mouth, and I gasp and tug your hair gently.
Your ministrations are gentle and sweet but brief, as with a final kiss upon me you straighten before straddling my hips. You look into my eyes, somewhat glazed with pleasure, and never breaking our gaze you lower onto me, biting your bottom lip and moaning quietly as I enter you.
I place my hands upon your bottom, but they don’t want to stay there, as I touch your hips, thighs, your sides, breasts as you slowly raise yourself up and down. After a few moments you lean forward, putting your hands to either side of my head, and here I can take your nipples into my mouth and taste your sweat, or lean up to kiss you as now I can match my movements to yours.
As you begin to cry out more frequently, and I know you’re going to come, I gently roll you to your back and quickly reenter you. You wrap your arms and legs about me, and finally I feel you constrict around me. Because I know you’re shy, I kiss you deeply, stifling your moan against my lips, but soon I’m joining you in ecstasy and I come into you, and moan back against your mouth.
We rest a moment, and I ease out of you. We look at each other, wet, covered in grass and mud and we laugh, kissing quickly, almost feverishly, in a heady mix of spent passion and hysterical laughter. We quickly gather our clothes and make a dash for the house, where we can take a warm shower and collapse into bed to wait until we’re ready for more.
