Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer. This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.You've been warned. I give permission for anyone to share or archive this story. Deck - A Short Deirdre-esq [F/F, mast, exh] By Tom Bombadil (c) Dec 1996 About four months ago new neighbours moved in next door. When they first arrived, I thought they were a middle-aged couple with a teenage daughter. After introducing myself, and my husband, I found out that Jack and Sylvia had no children. The teenager I'd seen was actually their live-in maid, Diana. Well, the two of them weren't home much, and when they were, they seemed a little distant, so we didn't really become close friends or anything like that. We did nod to each other in passing, if only to acknowledge each other's existence. They quickly faded into the background. One day, early in the summer, a couple of months after they had moved in, I saw Diana sunning herself on their deck. I never noticed anything unusual, so I just spread on my sunscreen, lay on my new lounger, and started in on my summer tan. It was the first nice, sunny day of the year. One thing I should say right now is that both our back decks are completely private, except from each other. Somehow the trees, houses, and specific designs had melded in such a way that, while nobody else could see anything, it would have been difficult and expensive to complete our privacy. We had never seen the need. So, I could see her, she could see me, but the rest of the world was oblivious. When I got up to fix dinner, she was gone. The following day I was out shopping. The day after, it rained. The next day turned out sunny and hot, so I slipped into my nice new yellow micro bikini and went to get tanned. My suit wasn't something I'd ever wear in public. All it had were two tiny triangles covering my nipples and a far from adequate thong for a bottom. It was perfect for the back deck. I'd had to shave and trim myself almost completely bare to keep things neat. Diana was out there, sunning herself again, reading some sort of magazine. She waved, so I waved back. I felt a little self-conscious out there, wearing that near nothing, but figured that since it was just their housekeeper, things would be okay. I slathered on the sunscreen and settled down to bake. Three quarters of an hour later I glanced over at their place. The girl was still there, lying on her stomach, still reading that magazine. Something caught me as odd, so I looked again. I guess she had undone the straps to her top, because I couldn't see them. Something still seemed odd, so I took a closer look. Then I looked again, red from embarrassment. She was playing with herself! There was no doubt about it! I could see her crotch clearly, and saw rapid movement under her suit. I rushed into my kitchen and sat down to try and recover my composure. I was hot, flushed, and breathing hard. That was the lewdest display I'd ever seen! Masturbating herself right out there in the open, in the sunshine! My God! Her image stayed with me for the rest of the day. My husband never knew what hit him. The attack was sudden, unexpected, and fierce. He was naked, on the floor, with me riding him, before he'd even had a chance to say hello. Later, when he asked what had gotten into me, all I told him was that I'd seen something exciting. He didn't pry any further. He also went to sleep with a big smile on his face. The next day, despite the fact that it was again perfect, I stayed indoors. Memories and imagination kept me hot and wet all day. Even after masturbating three times, I still jumped Phil when he got home. Saturday and Sunday we were busy. Monday, I couldn't help myself. I was out there early, oiled down, armed with sunglasses and a book, waiting. She showed up around two in a black micro thong bikini. It was considerably smaller than the one she had been wearing. We waved to each other, and I pretended to read. For the first while, she lay on her back, flipping through her magazine, idly running the fingers of her free hand across her stomach, her neck, her hips, and just about anywhere else bare skin showed. Then she rolled over and undid the straps of her top. For a while nothing happened, but then I noticed one arm slowly slipping underneath her body. A few minutes later I saw the telltale movements under the fabric in her crotch. She was doing it again! It was so hot, I almost exploded! My nipples were hard, my breasts were swollen, my clit felt like it was on fire, and I was quite literally panting. I watched her for a while, feeling the moisture collecting between my legs, soaking through my suit, then dripping down off my bottom. She turned over! There she was, topless, running one hand over her breasts, tweaking her nipples, keeping the other inside her suit bottom, bouncing it in and out as fast as her hand could move. It took me several seconds to recover, and when I did, I ran into the house. I never made it to the bedroom, or the living room, or the bathroom. Just inside the door I fell down, jammed both hands into my crotch, and jerked myself off to a fantastic orgasm. It was huge! Even with that, I couldn't stop. I came again, and then again, each one being better than the last. In my minds eye I could see every movement of her fingers, every slight twitch of her thighs and stomach, every bead of sweat, and every ripple running across her breasts. Her moans were for my ears only, her display strictly for my arousal. I barely managed to pull myself together in time to get supper started. Phil got jumped again. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, it rained. Friday started out cloudy, but quickly cleared up and let the sun shine through. I was out there early again, breathing heavily in my anticipation. Around two, she came out. Her breasts were already bare! She hadn't even bothered putting her top on! She waved, and I waved back, as nonchalantly as I could manage. I was hot and dripping by the time she finished putting on her sunscreen. "Do it!" I yelled in my mind, impatiently waiting for her to get busy. It was madness, I know, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to see that young girl do herself in the worst way. I watched her free hand, the one not holding the magazine, wander to and fro over her near-nude body. Every time it ventured near her groin, I shuddered in anticipation. Then she put her hand flat on her stomach and slid her finger tips under the fabric. "Yes!" I silently cried. "No!" I quietly shouted a few seconds later, as her fingers came back out. Her hand drifted around again for a few more minutes, then the finger tips slid down inside again, a little deeper. My gaze was riveted on her crotch, watching the small circular motions under her suit. I never noticed her put down the magazine, never noticed her starting to play with her breasts. I suddenly came to when her hand stopped, pulled out, and pointed at me. I jumped half way out of my skin! My glasses! My sun glasses! I was wearing them! There was no way she could see I was watching! I let loose with a great sigh of relief. Diana was still motioning at me. Pretending to just notice, I pushed up my glasses and looked over at her. She smiled, then made a motion I didn't recognize. When I didn't do anything, she frowned, pointed at me, then repeated the motion. She wanted me to take my top off! I just stared at her in disbelief. A few seconds later, I was panting again as she slid her hand into her crotch. The movements were unmistakable. Then she stopped, and repeated that motion again. When I still didn't move, she shrugged her shoulders and stood up. She was going to stop, to go inside, to leave me high and dry! Common sense and propriety went out the window. I took off my top. The sunshine felt strange on my bare nipples, but somehow it also felt very erotic. The slight breezes caused my nipples to harden into rock-hard little points. By then I was almost whimpering. She lay back and started in on herself right away. Her hand was flying, her stomach hard and knotted, and her neck tense. She was biting her lower lip and rolling her head back and forth. I could see she was wanting to climax, but something was holding her back. With her free hand, she pointed at me, then she slid it into her panties. Her eyes were glued to my crotch. She repeated the gesture. My God! She wanted me to do myself at the same time! I couldn't possibly do that! Once more she repeated her motions. I was frozen, half way between mindless arousal and utter mortification. I did nothing, so she stopped again, her face a mask of ecstasy/agony. With obvious effort, she pulled her hand out of her crotch, and bent over in preparation for getting up. Without meaning to, and without any conscious thought, my right hand drifted over and landed on my stomach, just below my navel. She stopped, watching me intently. My attention was split between her and my hand. It began a circular motion, drifting down towards my crotch. Right then and there I disowned that hand. What it did from that point on had nothing to do with me! Diana leaned back in her chair. My fingertips brushed my pubic hair under my suit. She bit her lower lip and threw her head back. My fingers found a hot, wet, slippery spot, and started rolling around in joy. Her hand disappeared under her suit and resumed its dance. She began to gyrate wildly, the undulations starting at her hips and moving outwards. I exploded. My back arched, my head flopped around, my legs kicked out. I couldn't breathe for a moment. The world stopped, turned inside out, then started again. I was gasping, but that traitorous hand of mine never stopped. Neither did Diana. They sent me into orbit, sent me flying so high and hard I couldn't even see the ground. Utterly exhausted, utterly spent, I collapsed into my recliner. Diana was nowhere to be seen. Finally feeling my embarrassment, I grabbed my top and ran into the house. It took me a while to recover enough for a shower. Then I had dinner to prepare. Phil was late coming home that night. I barely noticed. Monday we did it again. It was even wilder! Dinner was late. If Phil noticed, he didn't say anything. He seemed rather quiet and distracted. Tuesday she did something that shocked me. Just as we were letting loose, she stood up and took off her bottom. She was naked! Then she motioned for me to take mine off too! That was too much. I could never go naked out doors, even on our private deck. Then, to my utter shock, my left hand joined my right in its conspiracy. With me watching in wide-eyed amazement, they pulled off my suit. There she was, naked as anything, sitting there frigging herself off, watching me as I sat there, naked as anything, frigging myself off. I couldn't believe I was doing such a thing! I came, and came, and came, and couldn't seem to stop. Phil ordered Chinese, when he finally showed up. I went to bed early. I was exhausted. Phil never said anything, and I was feeling far too guilty and embarrassed about what I had done to ask him about his tardiness. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were fantastic. Phil brought home chicken one night, pizza the next, and took me out Friday. He was late every night. I was too tired to worry much. Monday she kept her bottom on, but still had me strip. By then, I had seen enough for my imagination to fill in the details. Tuesday was the same. Wednesday, she kept her top on as well. Friday, all she did was rub herself on the outside of her suit. I still exploded several times. Phil was getting later each night. Saturday I attacked him in the morning. There was no letup. Sometime in the late afternoon he escaped, so I had to carry on by myself. He came back very late on Sunday. By then I had exhausted myself, so he was safe. Monday, it rained. At two o'clock there was a knock on the door. It was Diana! She walked me back into my living room, lay me down on the carpet, and motioned for me to start doing myself! She sat on the couch, staring at me expectantly. I didn't know what to do. I'd gotten used to doing it outside, safe on the deck, with her watching, but now she was in my house, sitting not more than five feet away! My traitorous hands did their work. I watched with horrified fascination as they removed my blouse, my skirt, my slippers, my bra, and my panties. Then they got me heated up. I exploded hard several times before noticing that she'd left. That slowed me down a bit, but I still climaxed three or four more times before Phil got home. He was late again, and had brought dinner home. Mexican. There was no mention of him finding me naked on the living room floor, my clothes strewn about, three fingers buried in my crotch, panting and straining for my next release. I never bothered getting dressed again that evening. Tuesday she was fully dressed, sitting in her chair, using binoculars. When I just stood there staring at her, she motioned for me to get undressed and get busy. So I did. Two hours later, when I finally collapsed in utter exhaustion, she stood up, waved, and went inside. I lay there, naked in the sunshine, for another half hour before I could move. Wednesday, she had company. A man. When she motioned for me to get busy, I went inside. No way! Ten minutes later there was a knock on my door. Diana again! She was carrying some sort of thin, leather-wrapped stick with her. I was marched out onto the deck wearing nothing but my bikini and my wrap. She motioned for me to undress. I just stood there, frozen. She hit me with that stick! Right on my bottom! It hurt! A lot! Again she motioned for me to get undressed. My hands were hanging onto my lower cheeks for their protection. Diana pulled them away, then hit me again. Then twice more. I was in shock! When she finally motioned for me to get undressed again, I did. She then sat me down on the recliner, pushed me back, and guided my hands for a while. I got hot, and those traitors started moving on their own. The guy was staring at me through his binoculars! A few minutes later, she was back with him, and they were both watching me! My mind dissolved into one long, continuous series of peaks. Thursday, the two of them watched me again. Friday, she was alone. It wasn't as good. Phil never came home until Sunday night. He had red marks on his bottom, similar to the ones I'd had on Wednesday. I put some cream on them and never said a word. I didn't dare! Monday, she had another woman with her, someone about my own age, and just as good looking. She had black hair, I had light brown, she had no bush, I had a small, carefully trimmed one, she had slightly bigger breasts, I had a slightly narrower waist and longer legs. Her nipples are pink, mine are a medium tan. Diana, using that leather stick thing, got her naked and jerking off right there in front of me. I was stunned! When the teen saw that I wasn't doing anything, she motioned for me to get undressed and get busy too. When I still didn't do anything, she motioned at me with that stick! I got undressed in a hurry. It was fantastic again! The earth moved, the sky fell down, and I dissolved into a puddle of exhausted goo. The other woman looked as hot, sweaty, and tired as me. We stared at each other for a while before I went inside and had a shower. Tuesday, just before two, there was a knock at the door. It was that other woman! Neither of us said anything. We went out onto the deck, stripped side by side, sat side by side, and started frigging ourselves. That's when I noticed Diana was on her deck, with that guy, with their binoculars. I didn't particularly care. When we had exhausted ourselves, the other woman used my shower, then got dressed and left. Phil got home sometime after I was asleep. Wednesday, she was back. We did it again. I never noticed anyone on the other deck the whole time. At three, Diana showed up - on *my* deck! She ushered us both inside, into the front room, still naked. She sat the other woman in a chair, bottom on the front edge, legs spread wide. Then she forced me down to my knees and tried to push my head between the other woman's legs! No way! Diana hit me with that stick again. Then again, and again, and again. She didn't stop until I was lips-deep in the other woman's vagina, tongue swirling all over the place. Her taste wasn't bad, and there was hardly any smell at all, even though she'd been masturbating for an hour. She was very wet and juicy. I must have done something right, because she climaxed at least three times in the next half hour. Then Diana made us switch positions. It was fantastic! Unbelievable! Far better than when Phil was doing what he considered his obligatory duty. I just couldn't get enough! Before I was anywhere near done, they were gone. Thursday, she was back. There were several people I didn't recognize on the other porch, in addition to Diana and that other guy. The two of us ignored everyone over there and did ourselves for an hour. Then we went inside, into the bedroom, and did each other for another hour before she showered and left. Friday went the same way. Phil stayed away again until Sunday night. He had even more red marks on him. We never said a single word to each other. Monday, I recognized two people on the other porch - Jack and Sylvia, our neighbours! They were chatting away with Diana, and occasionally looking over to see how we were doing. The other woman and I mostly watched each other, getting hotter all the time. Tuesday, Phil was there! Naked! Wearing a blindfold! Diana was making him jerk off! Any time he slowed down, she hit him with that stick! I came so hard ... When Phil came home that night, very late, I never said anything at all. The red marks looked very angry indeed. He slept on his stomach. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were the same, differing only in who was over there. On Thursday, nobody was! We did it anyway. Saturday, Phil moved out. He came in, packed up his clothes, and left. He said that he'd keep paying the mortgage, and keep giving me my weekly allowance, but he'd been given his orders. Orders? Sunday, the other woman moved in, without saying a word. Diana helped her carry in her bags, taking them right up into my bedroom! The other woman's name, I found out later, is Becky. We live together now. She was Diana's next door neighbour, back before Jack and Sylvia moved. Neither one of us has the slightest idea of what happened to her husband. She hasn't seen him for six months. The support checks keep coming in though, every two weeks. Still, we wonder. Sometimes I see Phil a few times a week, mostly for meals, but every once in a while he sleeps over - on the couch. Sometimes I don't see him for weeks. I don't really miss him much anymore. Becky and I still do that thing on the deck every weekday. Diana insists on it. The one time we skipped, she came over and whacked us until we could barely sit down! So, even if there isn't anyone over there to see, we do it anyway. Except when the weather doesn't cooperate. We've learned to do each other in so many ways, it's hard to imagine ever not wanting to. She is just as hungry as me. Strange as it sounds, I think of her as my wife. During one of our very few conversations, she said she thinks of me as her wife! We do make a rather strange couple when we go out together. I wonder what Diana has planned for us when the weather starts getting bad again, later in the fall?