Neighbor builds a fence shirtless. She watches, then invites him over once the kids leave. They finally fuck after years of quiet tension.
The post was heavier than it had looked at the timber yard. Mark dragged it across the grass by one end, leaving a groove in the lawn, and let it drop beside the hole he’d spent the morning digging.
The old cedar boards were stacked against the shed, grey and split where the rain had got into them. He’d taken his shirt off an hour ago. It was somewhere near the wheelbarrow.
“You’re doing that wrong.”
Elena was standing on the other side of the gap where the fence used to be, a glass of iced tea in her hand and her sunglasses pushed up into her hair. Through the open ranch slider behind her he could hear the tinny music of whatever game the kids were playing.
“Which part?”
“No idea. I wanted to see if you’d stop.” She held out the glass. “Here. You look like you’re about to fall over.”
He took it. Her fingers stayed on the glass a moment after his had closed around it, and she didn’t look away when he noticed.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. I’ve been watching you out the kitchen window since ten. It seemed only fair.”
He laughed and drank half of it in one go. The ice knocked against his teeth.
“You could have come out and helped.”
“I could have.” She leaned on the one new section he’d finished, testing it with her weight. “Their dad’s picking them up at two. He’s got them for the weekend.”
Mark looked at his watch and realised it was almost two already.
“The air conditioning works, if you want to come over after,” she said. “I’ll leave the door open.”
She went up the patio steps without waiting for an answer.
He heard the car pull out at ten past two.
He gave it a few more minutes, hosed the dirt off his arms at the outside tap, then found his shirt and walked through the gap in the fence.
The kitchen was cool and smelled faintly of lemon. A cereal bowl sat in the sink with the spoon still in it.
Elena came down the stairs barefoot, in a green dress he hadn’t seen before, the hem sitting just at her knees.
“You put a shirt on,” she said.
“Seemed polite.”
“Shame.”
She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could see a small freckle on her collarbone he’d never been near enough to notice.
“I’ve been thinking about this since you pulled the first board off.”
“Which board?”
“The one by the lemon tree. You swore at it.”
He kissed her.
It was slower than he’d expected, and she put her hand flat against his chest as though checking he was really there.
When they broke apart she was smiling.
“The fence can wait,” he said.
“It’s waited fifteen years.”
She took his hand and led him through to the living room.
The blinds were half drawn and the light came in low across the carpet. She turned to face him, reached up and slid one strap off her shoulder, then the other.
The dress fell around her feet.
She stepped out of it and nudged it toward the couch with her toe. Beneath it she wore only a simple pair of dark underwear. The fabric was already damp between her thighs. Her skin looked warm in the slanted light: soft curves of breast and hip, the faint tan lines from summer, the freckle on her collarbone now joined by the rest of her body finally within reach. Her nipples were already tight against the air.
Mark didn’t move.
“Well?” she said.
“It’s a different view from my side of the fence.”
She laughed, took hold of the hem of his shirt, and pulled it up over his head. Then her fingers went to the button of his jeans, working them open with deliberate care before pushing denim and underwear down together. He stepped free of them. His cock was already thick and heavy, the head flushed dark, a bead of clear fluid at the tip.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Elena let her hands rest on his shoulders. Her eyes moved over him with an appreciation that made Mark suddenly conscious of every inch of space between them.
“You really have been watching,” he said.
“Apparently.”
“How long?”
She smiled.
“Long enough.”
He stepped closer.
She didn’t move away.
The teasing expression on her face softened as she lifted her chin and kissed him. Slowly at first, almost cautiously, as though both of them were still deciding whether this was really happening.
Then Elena’s hands slipped around his neck, and the hesitation disappeared. Her bare breasts pressed against his chest. The soft give of her body made him groan into her mouth. He felt the heat of her through the thin barrier of her panties. She shifted her hips and rubbed against the hard length of him, deliberately, until the damp fabric slid along the underside of his cock.
When they broke apart, she was smiling.
“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” she whispered.
“Months?”
“Since you moved in next door.”
Mark laughed quietly.
“And you waited?”
“You were busy building a fence.”
“I see.”
“You were taking far too long.”
She kissed him again.
This time there was no uncertainty. His hands settled at her waist, then slid up to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they tightened further under his touch. She drew him closer, rolling her hips so that the hard length of him pressed firmly against the soaked fabric between her legs.
Elena looked into his eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“Very.”
She smiled, hooked her thumbs into her panties, and slid them down her legs. She stepped out of them and left them on the floor. Completely naked now, she took his hand and led him toward the stairs. Between her thighs she was visibly wet, a thin sheen of moisture catching the light on the soft outer lips of her pussy.
At the bottom step, she paused and glanced back at him.
“Last chance to go back to your fence.”
Mark looked toward the window, where the unfinished boundary stood between their houses.
“It’s been fifteen years,” he said. “I think it can wait another afternoon.”
She laughed, pulled him upstairs, and closed the bedroom door behind them.
For a moment, they simply stood there, looking at each other. Her body open to him, his cock fully hard now, the tip already slick and shining with precum.
Mark reached for her, and she stepped into his arms. Their kiss deepened, and she pulled him closer, her fingers moving slowly over his shoulders, then down his back to grip his ass and press him against her. He whispered her name against her mouth. She answered by kissing him again, deeper, while one of her hands slid between them and wrapped around his cock. She stroked him from base to tip, thumb spreading the precum over the head in slow circles, feeling the weight and heat of him pulse in her grip. A fresh bead of fluid welled up under her touch.
They moved together toward the bed, stopping only long enough for Elena to look into his eyes.
“Still sure?”
“Yes.”
She smiled and drew him down beside her.
Their kisses became slower and more intimate. Elena’s hands explored him tracing the lines of muscle, curling around his cock again, stroking with a firm, unhurried rhythm that made his hips shift and his breath catch. His hands moved along her back and waist, then lower, cupping the curve of her ass before slipping between her thighs. She was already soaked. When his fingers parted the soft outer lips of her pussy and stroked over her clit, then lower still, sliding one finger into the hot, wet heat of her, she made a soft, needy sound against his mouth. He added a second finger and curled them, working her open while his thumb circled her clit in tight, deliberate strokes. Every touch seemed to make the space between them disappear. She was wet enough that the sound of his fingers moving inside her filled the quiet room, slick and unmistakable.
She pulled him closer, and he responded, rolling her onto her back and settling between her thighs. He kissed down her throat, across the freckle on her collarbone, then took one nipple into his mouth and sucked hard while his fingers continued working her open. Her hips began to rock against his hand, fucking herself on his fingers. Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him lower. He kissed a path down her stomach and settled between her legs, spreading her open with his hands so he could see everything.
Her pussy was shaved smooth, the soft outer lips bare and swollen, glistening with wetness, her clit standing out under its hood. The sharp, musky smell of her arousal rose strong between them.
“You’re shaved,” he said, voice rough.
She looked down at him, flushed. “I wanted you to see everything.”
He licked her slowly at first. Broad strokes over her clit, then deeper, pushing his tongue into her pussy and fucking her with it while she arched and gasped. Her juices coated his mouth and chin. He sucked her clit between his lips and pushed two fingers back inside her, curling them against the spot that made her thighs tremble and her pussy clench around him. He stayed there until her legs shook and a fresh rush of wetness coated his chin and fingers. She tugged at his hair, pulling him back up, her face flushed, lips parted. When he kissed her she tasted herself on his tongue, sharp and musky.
She reached between them, guided the head of his cock to her pussy, and looked at him.
“Please.”
He pushed into her in one long, steady thrust. The heat and tightness of her pussy made him groan out loud. She was so wet that he slid in without resistance, her walls gripping him as she exhaled hard against her neck, legs wrapping around his waist. He held still for a moment, buried deep, feeling her pulse around him. Then he began to move. For a while, neither of them spoke. There was only the sound of their breathing and the quiet wet slide of his cock moving in and out of her pussy. He started slow. Deep, deliberate strokes that let her feel every inch of him stretching her open. He pulled almost all the way out until only the head remained inside, then pushed until his balls slapped against her. Then he found a rhythm that matched the way she rose to meet him. The wet sound of their bodies meeting grew louder. Her nails dug into his back. He slipped a hand between them to rub her clit in time with his thrusts, and her breath stuttered.
“Mark—”
He felt her start to tighten around him, the flutters turning into full pulses as she came. Her thighs locked around him. A broken sound left her throat as her pussy clenched hard around his cock, pulsing in waves that milled him. Clear fluid slicked his length and wet the sheets beneath them. He kept moving through it, slower, deeper, fucking her until she softened and kissed him again, open-mouthed and hungry, tasting herself on his tongue.
Then she pushed at his chest, rolled them so she was on top, and sank back down onto him with a soft moan. She rode him with rolling hips, hands braced on his chest, breasts moving with each motion. He held her hips, then slid his hands up to cup her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples while she took him exactly how she wanted. Every downward stroke buried him as deep as he could go. He could feel the wet heat of her coating him completely, her pussy gripping and releasing him with each rise and fall. She leaned forward, changing the angle so his cock rubbed harder against the front wall of her pussy, and he thrust up to meet her. The room filled with the soft sounds of skin and the wet slap of their bodies. She came again with a quieter, deeper cry, body clenching hard around him, her juices running down his cock and over his balls in a warm, steady trickle.
He flipped them again without pulling out, putting her on her back once more. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and drove into her harder, deeper, watching the way her pussy stretched around his cock on every stroke. The wet sounds were louder now, filthy and rhythmic. He reached down and rubbed her clit with two fingers while he fucked her, and she came a third time with a sharp cry, her pussy spasming around him so tightly he had to grit his teeth to keep from finishing.
He pulled out, turned her onto her hands and knees, and pushed back into her from behind in one smooth thrust. She moaned into the mattress as he gripped her hips and started fucking her in long, deep strokes. The new angle let him go even deeper. He reached around and found her clit again, rubbing it in tight circles while he pounded into her. Her arms gave out and she dropped to her elbows, ass still raised, taking every inch of him. He could see his cock disappearing into her pussy over and over, shiny with her juices. When she came this time it was quieter but longer, her whole body shaking as her pussy milked him in steady pulses.
He pulled out again, rolled onto his back, and pulled her on top of him once more. She sank down onto his cock with a soft, satisfied sound and began to ride him slower now, grinding more than bouncing, working her clit against the base of his cock. He held her hips and thrust up into her, matching her rhythm. She leaned down and kissed him, open and deep, while she fucked herself on his cock. He could feel himself getting closer, the pressure building low in his gut.
“I’m going to come,” he said against her mouth.
“Inside me,” she answered, and rolled her hips harder.
That pulled him over the edge. He gripped her hips, drove up into her a final few times, and spilled inside her with a low groan, burying his face against her throat as he came in thick, heavy pulses, filling her pussy until he could feel it start to leak out around his cock and run down over his balls. She kept moving through it, slower now, milking every last drop from him until he was spent and twitching inside her.
They stayed like that for a long moment, bodies still joined, hearts slowing. When she finally lifted off him, a thick strand of his cum stretched between the head of his cock and her pussy before breaking and dripping down her inner thigh in a slow, white trail. The stink of sex filled the closed bedroom, heavy and unmistakable.
Eventually, they settled together beneath the sheets.
Elena rested her head against his shoulder and smiled, one leg still draped over his, the slow trickle of him between her thighs a quiet reminder of what they had finally done.
“So,” she whispered.
Mark laughed softly.
“So.”
“Tomorrow,” she said, “you finish the fence.”
He kissed her forehead, then her mouth, lingering.
“Tomorrow.”
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