I hurriedly unpacked the painting supplies from my car and attacked the porch with renewed enthusiasm. The scraping and sanding was slow, sweaty work, but two hours later, I had finished the front and side porch. The day had gone from hot to unbearable, and my tee shirt was soaked with sweat. I pulled it off and stood in the shade of the back porch, catching my breath.
The Beecher's back yard was the size of a football field and their pool looked like it had been ripped right out of a tropical resort. A row of reclining beach chairs, each with its own colorful umbrella, lined the edge of the pool. The pool itself was outfitted with two diving boards, a tube slide, and had a fully stocked bar built into the shallow end! The bright blue water shimmered in the sunlight and I had to resist the urge to strip off my pants and do a cannonball right into the middle of it. The Beechers probably wouldn't appreciate that. Mom and Dad would be even less amused.
I shook my head, and getting down on my hands and knees, began to sand the back porch. There would be plenty of water in the Lake and it would be filled with naked girls, if I could just get this job done in time...
“Well, you must be Michael.”
I looked up, startled. Before me stood a woman in sunglasses and a dazzling white bikini. Long jet black hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her evenly tanned skin sparkled in the sunlight, making her whole body look like it was made of gold. Her bikini top struggled to contain her enormous bulging breasts and the strings from her thong dug into her wide voluptuous hips.
Was this Mrs. Beecher? Damn, the woman was a living breathing MILF!
Suddenly I realized that I hadn't answered her. I was just on my knees, staring.
“Y-yeah, that's me!” I stammered.
Mrs. Beecher lowered her sunglasses to get a better look at me, revealing piercing blue eyes.
“I'm Amanda Beecher,” she said with a smile. “When your mother called and said she was sending her son over to paint the porch, I assumed you would be a boy, not a grown man,” she purred.
“Yeah, I -I guess so,” I replied, aware of how stupid I was sounding, “I just graduated.”
“Oh my,” Mrs. Beecher replied, her smile widening, “You really are a man now, aren't you?”
“My daughter Madison, just graduated too. Do you know her?” she asked.
Oh, I knew Madison Beecher all right. A typical stuck up rich girl who never went anywhere without an entourage of her pathetic friends constantly sucking up to her in the hopes of being invited to one of her extravagant parties. I shared a couple of classes with Madison, but she had never given me so much as a sidelong glance. Madison liked her boys rich or popular, and I was neither.
“Sure, I know Madison,” I lied. “We took Algebra and History together.”
“Really?” Mrs. Beecher replied, raising an eyebrow. “I'm surprised she hasn't mentioned you to me before.”
A sly look came over her face.
“Maybe she wants to keep you all to herself,” she said with a laugh.
I laughed too, weakly. I wasn't sure what else to do.
“Oh look at me!” she said suddenly, “You're trying to work and here I am wasting your time with idle chit-chat. I'm such a naughty girl sometimes.”
“It-it's no problem, really!” I blurted out.
“Don't get too hot, Michael,” she said, flashing me a grin and raising her sunglasses.
“...working, I mean.”
I didn't answer. I was still kneeling on the porch, watching mesmerized, as Mrs. Beecher sauntered toward the pool. Her full broad hips swung from side to side like a pendulum, and the flimsy white triangle that made up her thong did little to conceal her perfectly sculpted bubble butt. Her ample ass cheeks gleamed in the sunlight like two golden globes, jiggling hypnotically with every step she took. Mrs. Beecher glanced over her shoulder at me and smiled. I quickly looked down, but it was too late. I knew she had seen me staring at her.
That was when I noticed the bulge in the front of my pants. I was having a raging erection! My balls were on fire and my dick was so hard I could have pounded nails with it! How long had it been like that? Had Mrs. Beecher seen it? Damn!
I shot a furtive look at the pool and froze. Mrs. Beecher was lying on her stomach on a reclining beach chair. She was topless. Her bikini top lay in a bright white pile on the ground next to her. Her head was turned toward me and her lips were curled into a bemused smile. She was still wearing her sunglasses, making it impossible to tell whether she was looking at me or not. I could see the side of her bare breast, bulging out from beneath her.
My cock surged, and for a heart-stopping second I thought I was going to cum in my pants, but I didn't. Quickly looking away, I gathered up my tools and hurried around the corner of the house. Maybe it was a good idea to sand the other side porch first. I could always finish the back porch later. Tomorrow, even. There was still plenty of time...
***
I felt nervous and even a little excited as I pulled into the Beecher's driveway the next morning. I rounded the corner of the house with my painting supplies, wondering what might be waiting for me in the back. But nothing was waiting for me. The back yard was empty. I sighed, unsure if I was disappointed or relieved.
But there was no time to think about it. Today was going to be a real scorcher. I could tell. It wasn't even noon yet, and already the heat waves were rippling up from
