A Summer's Surprise (Part 1)

A Summer's Surprise (Part 1)

A Summer's Surprise,
Part 1

by Nicholas Keel

Chapter 1:

Nick was nineteen and just home from his first year at college, which if you asked anyone involved was lackluster at best. The summer after high school graduation, he had entertained visions of parties, girls, alcohol, the works. But, reality was a bit less exciting than such pre-frosh imagination. He went to a couple of parties, tried to find a group of kids to hang out with, but still ended up sleeping alone in his dorm every weekend.

Nick's roommate was not so cursed, as he was never shy to point out. It was right before Thanksgiving, when he showed Nick “The Chart.” Inside his closet, he'd hung a piece of poster board with both of their names, a star for each girl brought home. He thought, mistakenly, that it would be a fun competition between the two of them, but had realized sometime in October that a competition it was not. Nick's line had zero stars.

"Yeah... sorry, man. I quit counting a few weeks ago, it just bummed me out to see you with a big ol' zero up there," he said dejectedly.
"So... why are you showing this to me then?" I asked.
"I dunno, I thought you'd want to see it."
"You thought wrong."

That pretty much encapsulates the rest of their time together. So, when the school year began to wrap up in April and May that spring, Nick was not at all disappointed with the prospect of going home. In fact, he even had a job there waiting for him, or so he thought. Nick took a few days to get sorted, visit with old friends, and catch up with family when he got back. Then he would head over to Al's Comics and Cards, where he'd worked every summer since ninth grade.

Nick was a bit of nerd in high school: paper and dice games, trading card games, and the like. He took a little shit for it, but it wasn't too bad, really. The perk of working at a gaming store was that he always got early releases, knew about upcoming events, and got to use his employee discount. Nick walked into Al's, and found the manager, whose name was actually Tom; he'd bought the business from a buddy (the original Al) a decade or so previously.

"Hey, Tom! Good to see you." Nick said by way of greeting.
"Hey, Nick. How's school treating you?"
"Ah, you know: studying, parties, the works." he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"I bet you're a real lady-slayer up there, yeah?"
"Eh, I do okay." Nick lied, unconvincingly. "I was wondering when you wanted me to start? Maybe this coming week, after the weekend?"
"Aw shit, Nick," Tom said, looking genuinely upset. "I don't think I can take you on this summer. That new trading card game, Magic the Gathering came out this year, and I had to hire extra help to deal with he new customers, and to help host events. I'm full."

This news hit him like a ton of bricks. Nick had expected to spend most of the summer surrounded by all the entertainments and diversions he could ask for, and here he is, finding out that it just isn't going to happen. "There's no way?" He asked, pleading to keep his summer intact.
"No, I'm sorry Nick. I just can't afford two staffers."
"It's fine," Nick said, bristling. He wrapped my pride around himself tight enough to stiffen his spine. "I understand. I'll be back in over the weekend to pick up some new supplement books."
"I'm really sorry, Nick. I am. Honest. I hope you're not hurt about it."
"It is what it is. Catch you later, Tom."

With that, he walked out of the store, and headed home. The summer was officially shot. No job, which meant no extra cash, which meant a very boring three months at home. "Fuckin' great," He said to no one in particular.

Nick came home, and his mom said something about dinner, but he stomped upstairs to my room and shut the door, instead. He attempted to lose himself in some reading, but the shadow of the wasted summer was too large to pay attention through. At some point that evening, Nick fell asleep... and the next morning is when the summer would really begin.

* * *

It must have been around ten o'clock the next morning when he woke up, his parents were already gone to work for the day, and Nick had a big round of diddly-squat to keep himself busy. He went down stairs, foraged around for some food, and opted for some frozen-toaster-pastry-thing. He poured myself a glass of lemonade, and stood at the kitchen window, looking out into the side yard of the house.

A bit of movement caught his eye, and a flash of pale of skin reflected the morning sunlight. Hmm... Nick thought to himself, I wonder who's over at the Tylers' place? He moved into the dinning room to see if he could get a better view. The wooden fence that separated our yard and the Tylers' had gaps just enough to see through, but from this distance, there wasn't much to make out. There's definitely someone over there, though.

Without thinking, Nick found himself quietly sneaking outside. The Tylers only had one kid, a noisy little asshole named Johnny. He'd be... maybe eleven now, but they always sent him away to sleep-away camp. Hell, any sane person would send that kid away as often as possible. He crept out, and quietly approached the fence.

As Nick got closer, he saw that there was indeed someone on the other side. Visions of himself heroically stopping a burglar immediately came to his mind. The newspaper would interview him, the Tylers would thank him, and the town would celebrate his catching of the sneaky thief.

All of these visions were immediately silenced when Nick saw the soft curve of a hip, and slight protrusion of a hip bone. The tiniest strip of fabric stretched taught across the hip, connecting to a perfect triangle which disappeared between two glistening thighs.

There's a girl over there.

A delicate hand came into his limited field of view, and began rubbing a viscous oil onto her skin, giving it a smooth sheen. She ran her hands over her thighs, lower abdomen, and hips. Nick truly couldn't believe what he was seeing. Who is this?! He stood transfixed. Nothing short of earthquake or plane falling out of the sky would have moved him from that spot.

He shifted his weight slightly, to get a different angle through the slats. Her stomach curved out slightly, and then dipped, rising again to meet her ribs. Her skin was smooth and perfect, slick with oil. She was wearing a red bikini accented with white dots, and the fabric gently enveloped her breasts. Her dark brown hair was piled above her on the deck chair as she lay on her back in the warm, morning sun. She's beautiful.

Nick reached down, and adjusted himself. His growing hardness was pressing uncomfortably against his jeans. As if sensing his need, she stretched luxuriously, arching her back off of the deck chair, and making her nipples stand out against the strained fabric of her suit.

Nick's hand seemed to snake down of its own according, applying a slight pressure to the hardening bulge behind his jeans. He was so hard it hurt, the throbbing beat in time with his pulse, and the little waves of pleasure that rippled through his body with the pressure of it.

She laid back, and settled in to the chair. She brought up one knee, thankfully her left, and thus farther away from him, and not obstructing his view. She ran her hand down her stomach, the oiled skin smooth, tanned, and used to the summer's heat. Her fingers began to lazily trance the line of the bikini bottom, the slight crease where her thigh met her pelvis.

She seemed to drag her fingernails across her inner thigh, lightly scratching at the skin there, leaving a small track on the oiled skin which faded quickly. What the hell is happening? Her finger ventured to the small triangle of fabric, covering the curved mount beneath. She parted her legs ever so slightly, and began to run her fingers up over the fabric, highlighting in relief the curves and folds of her. She ran her fingers over the contours of the fabric, her lips faintly visible against the tight fabric.

Slowly, the color of the red fabric began to darken, as her juices were absorbed by the fabric. The small of her back lifted of the chair, as she rocked her hips, her breath now coming faster and faster and she worked her fingers in tight light circles, bringing her close and closer to release.

Nick was not sure when exactly he had unzipped his jeans, but unzipped they were, and he was running his hands tightly over his shaft, squeezing and pumping in time with her circles. Her pace increased, and he increased his as well. Her back now arched against the chair, lifting her chest to the blue clouded sky. Her lips parted, and her tongue darted out, wetting them slightly. A short little moan and cry escaped, and that about did it for him. It was happening.

Nick continued working his member, and he was already close to finishing. She looked to be pretty close, too. With one hand, she pressed the fabric of her bikini against herself, her fingers disappearing into the wet fabric, pressed slightly inside her. Her other hand furiously rubbed her clit through the fabric, and Nick exploded against the fence with such force that he saw starts for a few seconds. His knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, panting slightly.

Suddenly, he became aware that he was no longer being concerned with silence, and his head snapped up, peeking through the gap in the slats of the fence. She was looking straight at him, two fingers of her left hand reached around her thigh, dipped into her pussy through the fabric, and the other still resting on her clit.

He panicked. He jumped up, still hanging out of his shorts, and he darted back to the house. He slid the door closed as quietly as he could, and immediately headed up to his room, tucking himself away on the stairs. He closed the doors, and sat on the bed, panting in combination post-orgasm breathlessness and panic induced hyperventilation.

She saw me. I think she saw me. Shit shit shit! What if she tells someone. What if she tells the police? Fuck, I'm going to jail. Goddammit.

This sort of train of through dominated his consciousness for quite some time, and he imagined in grim detail just how he would make due in prison... a peeping tom no less. Oh god, I don't even know how old she is. Everything just got worse in the prison nightmare. No, no, no. I won't even entertain that thought. Hell, that's a woman, no question. Shit. I'm so going to jail.

Most of the rest of the day was spent in varying states of panic, worry, and meditation of future prison horrors. About four passed, and the police hadn't yet shown up, so NIck figured that he wasn't going to get hauled off to jail. At least not tonight.

HIs parents came from work, and they all ate a quiet dinner at home. Chinese take out. Then, his mom announced that she and Dad were going away from the weekend. “No wild parties!” Har har. Well, at least if he were going to go to jail, they wouldn't be here to see it.

Despite the looming threat of the loss of his freedom, he was secretly hoping that he would get to see her again. And soon. Even the thought of seeing her again caused him to stiffen. I've got it bad. After dinner, Nick pleasured himself in the shower: with the image of a red bikini with white dots firmly in mind, and two fingers deep in the wet fabric.

Chapter 2:

Ashley stepped outside onto the deck, the hot wood momentarily scalding the soft skin of her feet. She quickly pranced across to the chaise-long in the corner of the yard. The sun wasn't quite at its height, but the heat was already intense, and penetrating. She raised a hand to her brow, to give a little bit of shade, and looked to the window over the neighbor's house.

That's Nick's room, she thought. It had been close to three years since she's seen him. She had nursed a crush for Nick since she was twelve, and he was thirteen... or maybe fourteen? She shrugged to her own question, and draped the towel over the chair, setting the back down a few notches so she could recline back.

Nick didn't even have the time of day for me, most of the time. I don't think he even noticed I was here. It's true that most of her summers had been spent babysitting that intolerable brat of her aunt's and uncle's. Thankfully, he's away at some camp, and I might get to actually enjoy a summer break for once.

Ashley stood at the fence, and saw someone moving about the kitchen. Maybe it's Nick... she thought hopefully. He turned to her direction, pastry in mouth. Shit! She ducked down away from the fence, and sat on the chair. I think he saw me.

She heard the sliding glass door at the back of the neighbors' house traveling in its track. Shit. He's coming out. The cant of the sunlight let her see the slight shadow cast between the slats as Nick worked his way around the fence. Maybe he did see me.

Nick crept around, and his shadow came to a stop. What's he doing.... is he.... watching me? The thought sent an electric trill down her spine, and a warm pressure settled deep in her belly. She reached over, and picked up a bottle of tanning oil, squeezing a small amount into her hand. She began to spread the oil over her thighs, working it into her skin. She had some left over, and she smeared over hips and across the top of her bottoms.

The shadow of the neighbor boy was still visible at the fence, and all she could see if she could squint through the glare was one leg of jeans. The shadow shifted slightly, appearing to shrink on the inside edge between the rails, and she saw his hand grasp a bulge in his jeans, slowly squeezing and pressing.

Whoa. Nick is touching himself... to me. This was too good an opportunity to waste. Ashley began to trace her finger down the soft crease highlighted by the hem of her suit bottoms. She reached further, and dragged her fingernail across the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, leaving a small mark on the skin. Her body felt electric, and she could feel the gaze of the neighbor boy on her body, as her hands and fingers danced their way across her skin.

Little beads of sweat began to sprout on her forehead and chest, the heat of the sun only responsible for some of it. She breathed in deeply, and imagined Nick touching himself, watching her. Wait... she didn't have to imagine. His jeans were unzipped, and he had himself in a firm grip, stroking the length of him.

Fuck, I want him. She ran her fingers up from the back over her slit, pushing in slightly. She traced the lines of her lips, pressed tight against the fabric. Her hand settled, and she began working her fingers in little circles over her clit, pressing the wet flesh over the too-sensitive area. She would need to get quite worked up before she could apply direct pressure. She could feel her wetness soaking into her bottoms, and a little rivulet ran down her folds.

Ashley looked to the fence, and Nick seemed to be keeping pace with her, which just ratcheted up her level of arousal. She slid a hand down around her leg, bending her knee slightly, giving him a view of the growing wet spot on her suit. She wrapped her hand around her thigh, and began to press two fingers against the fabric of her swimsuit, pressing into the wet opening of her. Her other hand continued to run in tight circles, swirling around her clit, sending waves and spikes of pleasure through her body.

She could feel her own fingers pressing against the opening, the fabric wet and stretched tight. She pushed two fingers inside, through the fabric, almost to the second knuckle. She gasped in pleasure, and rain her tongue over lips, her breath coming in little pants.

She looked over, and saw Nick furiously stroking his rock hard cock, and a little moan escaped her lips involuntarily. That's all it took to set her over the edge, she fell the peak coming on, the crescendo of the waves of pleasure rolled over her. Her back arched, and her heels pressed firmly down on the chair.

Her two finger inside of herself, while she swirled and pressed on her swollen clit. She could feel her wetness on the chair beneath her, God, I don't think I've ever been this wet...

She heard a noise, and saw Nick spurting his seed through the fence slats, sinking to his knees: overcome with the force of his orgasm. Ashley was blown away by the climax which has been building. Seeing Nick finish, knowing that it was her touching herself which turned him on lack that... her version flashed with blue and yellow fireworks while wave after wave of her cumming rolled over her.

“Uh, uh … uh......... uh.” She gasped in little pants, while the muscles of her stomach and back twitched in the electrochemical fire of her orgasm. She looked over at the fence, thinking that maybe she would be able to shoot a devilish grin at Nick, and they very briefly made eye contact.

With that, Nick was up and gone before Ashley could even begin to smile at him, letting him know how hot it was that he came for her. She heard him storm into his house, and could see his bedroom door open and close from her position on the deck chair. Shit...I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that. She pouted slightly, strained her suit, and used the towel to clean up the chair, which was showing the worse for wear from her dripping sex.

Spur of the moment, she untied her swim suit, and tossed it over the fence to dry.

“Oh well,” she said to no one in particular, “There's always next time, and there's a lot summer between now
and the start of school.” With that, Ashley tossed her towel over her shoulder and sashayed into the house, which, if Nick had been watching, would have been a fantastic sight to behold.

Chapter 3:

Dinner had come gone, and Nick when to stand at his bedroom window. He wasn't really looking at anything in particular, just standing and thinking. He sighed heavily, unsure of how the days events would effect the rest of his summer, assuming he didn't get arrested.

Mulling over the thoughts of peeping toms and prisons, Nick noticed something on the fence. In the twilight gloom, he couldn't quite make out what it was but it... No, it can't be... but it was. A red bathing suit, with white polka-dots, tossed casually as you like over the wooden fence. Before the thought even began to form, Nick was heading downstairs. His parents were in the living room, watching something on the television: their nightly ritual having been unchanged since Nick was ten or so, and no longer needed tucking in at night.

Nick silently padded across the kitchen, and slipped out onto the back deck. He was hunched over, comically, like a thief on a Saturday morning cartoon. Nick's bare feet were silent on the wooden stairs, and he startles slightly at the feel of the cool grass. He slunk around the house, and peaked through the fence. No one. He turned around, the coast was clear.

Nick snatched the suit off the fence, and pressed it to his face, in haling deeply. The heady, musky scent of sticky girl-cum hit him, intoxicating him. He breathed in the scent of this gorgeous goddess, the memory of her fingering herself,; her slight, little moans through her parted lips.

Nick couldn't get any harder, remembering the sight of this morning, and the scent of her setting his brain on fire. Suddenly, the back light came on at the Taylors' house.

Shit. There might have been faster nineteen year olds somewhere in the world than Nick was that night, but certainly none in this country. Off like a shot, he hauled it to the house, rounding the corner onto the back deck, skidding on the wooden surface. His heart beating like a drum, the blood pounding in his ears, he breath coming in raw and ragged gasps... he realized the problem.

He looked own, and there. clenched tightly in his fist... that red bikini with white polka-dots.
Fuck. Me.

* * *

“Ashley, honey,” Aunt Lisa began, “I'm going to toss a load of laundry in after dinner, if you have anything that needs washed.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I do have a few things, let me go grab them and toss them in the basement.”
“Thanks, dear. Could you bring down the hamper from the main bathroom while you're up there?”
“Sure, Aunt Lisa,” Ashley replied helpfully.

She jogged up the steps, and turned into the guest room which would be hers from the remainder of the summer. The room looked out over the backyard, and the read deck of the Taylor's house. Ashley grabbed a pair of shorts, a few t-shirts, a pair of jeans and some socks to toss in the wash. Hmm... she thought to herself. Anything else?

As she stood, pondering the ever important list of laundry needs, she saw a shape moving in the backyard. It's Nick! Just as she leaned towards the window to see what he was up to, she saw him snatch her bathing suit off of the fence. Shit, that's what I needed. She tilted her head to the side, watching him, her hair falling slightly over her shoulder.

Nick pulled the suit up to his face, and inhaled deeply. Oh my god. He's... no! Ashley had always been very self-conscious of her scent, and the couple of boyfriend she had had, she always kept from getting too close to that area. She was terrified that something about it would gross them out. “Oh god! He's....”

She turned and ran down the stairs, carrying her clothes. She slid into the kitchen around the corner on her socks, and flipped the light switch with her elbow. She headed for the door of the back deck. No, no, no... please! She popped out the back deck, and there was no sign of Nick. He was gone. Phew... but wait.... There was also no sign of the swimsuit. Oh, god.

Ashley walked back into the house, set her clothes down on the floor, and sulked up to the get the hamper from the main bathroom upstairs. She plunked her own laundry on top, and hauled the load down the stairs, setting them by the laundry room door.

“Aunt Lisa, it's here by the door. I think I'm going to head to be early. The sun really took it out of me today.”
“Okay, dear. Thanks for the help!”

Ashley tromped up the stairs, and flopped down on the bed, not even bothering with the light. She looked across the divide between the two houses, and balled her hands into fists. She shook her head, furious that she'd been so careless. I've probably ruined it. I thought he liked me! After all this time!

Ashley indulged in her silent temper tantrum, until she saw something in the window of the neighbor boy. No... Across the way, in the room at the peak of the pitched roof, Nick was lying on his bed. His pants were unzipped, and his tumescent member was visible against his dark t-shirt. His hand was grasped firmly around the based, very slowly pumping up and down.

His other hand was pressing her bikini bottoms to his face, draped over his nose and mouth. Maybe it's not ruined after all... She slid from the bed, and crawled towards the window on hands and knees, leaning against the wall. She looked down, and saw that light from the street was falling right on her, so she slide to the side, sticking to the shadows. She could still see him from here, slowly milking his cock, her bottoms draped over his face, inhaling her scent.

She reached down into her shorts, and began rubbing herself, already wet from the sight. This morning you watched me, and now I'll watch you, Nicholas. She smiled at the thought. If you only you knew how how it was to have you watch me today... It didn't take much to get her close, so when the string of hot cum shot up and onto his jeans, his hands pressing her swimsuit, smelling her juices, she finished in a rolling, shattering wave of pleasure.

She removed her hand from her shorts, and on instinct brought it up to her nose, smelling her sex. It didn't seem to be anything special to her, but he certainly seemed to enjoy it. She stuck out her tongue, and touched it to the wetness there. She knew then, she wanted him to taste her, and she would taste him.

He didn't know it yet, but Nick was in for one hell of a summer vacation.

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