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Dear Readers, this is the story of Bunkie’s last summer before college starts. He’s freshly returned from Amsterdam, (see earlier stories) and meets the new backyard neighbors. This story also introduces Candi, who has grown up with him, but not as brother and sister. I really enjoyed writing this one, at least as much as my Gwendolyn stories last year.
Thanks as always for reading me. I enjoy getting your comments and feel honored when you follow my writings. -Puppop
This was not the best day for manual labor. It was a humid and muggy dog day. When the bus pulled off from it’s stop, the exhaust hung in the air, a swirl of soot and diesel. The birds were silent, not that you could have heard them for all the cicadas buzzing. From my vantage point on the ladder I could see Mrs. Almontado’s sheets hanging limp on the clothesline behind her house, her old cat watching me from the shade of a lean-to.
I was doing yard and fix up work up and down our street. I was still too young to work the docks, nor would my uncle let me just yet. For me it would be my last summer at home before college beckoned.
The extension ladder rattled and shifted some as I limbed up a tree in Mr. Fontana’s side yard. I was maybe twenty feet up but I got to thinking about the Mohawks that used to walk the beams of the skyscrapers being built in New York, not so far away. I wondered if they sweated like I was with my bowsaw and shifting ladder.
“Excuse me? Hello up there!” A blonde woman with big sunglasses and red lipstick was peering up at me. “Can I talk to you for a minute, please?”
My first thought, am I doing the wrong tree? But Mr. Fontana pointed right at THIS tree, for sure, I knew it…
The ladder wobbled and shook as I descended to the ground. She stepped back and smiled as I turned to her. That meant I probably wasn’t in trouble. I started brushing sawdust off me as she spoke.
“We just bought the house behind yours, on Elm, the one with the pool?”
She was younger than I thought, maybe mid twenties. Short too. I towered over her. I’m usually the tallest guy, the one in the back of any group photo but I could have set a tea glass on her head.
I nodded, “Hi, I’m Bunkie, glad to meetcha.” At least now I knew that I had the right tree and she wasn’t going to yell at me. I took off my Red Sox hat and mopped my brow with a rag. She had freckles and full heart shaped lips. Her hair was tied back over a sleeveless flowered blouse. The top two buttons weren’t buttoned, perhaps an oversight. Her arms were very fit, well shaped.
“Yes, hi. I’m Carole, my husband’s David. He’s at work, first day after training, but we need to get some stuff done around the house. They say you’re the guy, right?” She took a longer look at me. “Durn, they grow them big around here. You play sports and stuff?”
I relaxed, glad for the shade and the respite. “Yeah, I throw baseballs. It’s getting me into school come fall. Scholarship pays half. It helps. My uncle’s helping out and I’m making the rest doing this.”
Those top buttons of hers couldn’t be buttoned, I concluded. Carole had on shorts, kinda light blue, not too short, cute little legs with dimpled knees beneath them and woven sandals showing chipped painted nails on tiny toes.
Most of my employers were old geezers with nicotine stained fingers reluctantly tugging out each bill to pay me or hairy signoras built like beer kegs with a baby on their hip. So this, this was indeed unusual. She was speaking again, missed the first few words. Those buttons…
“…It won’t come on but it will reverse if you flip the thingy. It’s plastic and some of it broke off and cut my finger, see?” She held up her pointer, tiniest cut seen if you squinted.
A car went by, a Rambler dragging its muffler on the bumps. She turned to watch. I took a peek. Slim hipped, well toned, good shape. Aha!
“Were you on the swim team in school?” I asked. Thingy, reverse, she’s talking about her pool pump, got it.
Dazzler of a smile, 100 watts, grinning at the grimy guy. “Was,” she said, “Use to be, but then I grew and grew some more.” Carole glanced down, actually giggled. “So I took up rowing, still do. It’s how David and I met. River Mystic. Connecticut? But anyway, could you look at it? I mean I called a guy but he won’t come out for a week without a contract.”
I needed lunch and had two yards to mow after. I could call Finney down at Uncle’s social club, maybe see what to do, who knows?
“I’ll give it a shot. I know a guy, retired plumber. See you around three maybe?”
Another smile. She pushed her sunglasses up. Amused grey-glue eyes watching mine as she inhaled deeply, dear God. “Good, that’s settled. We have some bushes that need cutting back at the fence, buncha other stuff. But the pool first, before it gets all icky, OK?”
I was wondering what kept the next couple of buttons from going into launch mode. I knew she said something, bushes, ick, yeah.
She cocked her head up at me, gave me a little wave, wedding ring sparkling. “Are ataşehir escort bayan we talking?” She giggled, “My face here, Mr. Bunkie, right?”
A mosquito buzzed my ear. I swatted it, spell broken, ears began to function normally. “Sorry, it’s just hot.”
She actually glanced at me down there. “I can tell. Day’s warming up too!” Another giggle, “See you later on then.” She walked off down the sidewalk, pulling her shades back down.
She knew I was watching. She looked back after about ten paces and smiled again. I tried to look away quick, but it was too late. Figures.
I got Finney on the phone while I was eating my corned beef. I stood in the kitchen and between bites relayed what little I was told about the pool pump. He couldn’t say over the phone, but agreed to stop by later on after running some errands.
The sun was brighter and some of the humidity had burned off. That, and the breeze picked up. I stowed the mower and clippers in the carriage house. Three o’clock had passed, but I went in and washed my face and arms, before crossing the alley to Carole and David’s backyard gate. I went to the screen door. Bill Withers sang from a radio leaning on the window ledge. Carole was at the counter washing some veggies.
She started when I tapped, the door moving on it’s brackets.
“Oh, there you are! I was just going to get a soda. Want one? I’ve got Nehi.” Beckoning me in, opening the Philco.
I stepped in, door rattling on the jam.
She leaned into the fridge, searching for the sodas, not finding any. “David’s supposed to fix that door. I hate how it rattles.”
I watched her lean. “Seems like the screws are just loose. Gimme a screwdriver, see if that works.”
Carole went to look in the basement about the time Finney parked in the gravel behind Uncle’s carriage house. He got out with his toolbox and walked over.
I stepped out onto the landing.
He squinted up at me. “I thought you lived with your uncle.”
I squinted back. “I get around, you know, popular.”
“Always a wise ass, youse.” He flicked his smoke in the bushes. “Let’s get this done, wife’ll have my nuts I don’t get to the butcher. They close early today.”
The pool house was really just a shed. We cut the power, pulled the switch.
Carole came in. I introduced her to Finney as he worked.
“Contacts.” He waved the back of the switch around. “Gimme some sandpaper, these’re all carboned up.”
I dug around in the toolbox, taking out the top tray.
Carole said, “There’s some, right there.” She crouched beside me reaching in the box. She smelled like Orange Nehi, but I had melons on my mind. There they were. The third button had quit the fight, big delight, Valley of the Dolls. White lace topped bra was almost in my face when she handed Finney the sandpaper.
“Careful kid, you’ll get suffocated. Gotta know when to pull back.” He harrumphed.
I wanted so bad to just lean my head in. Soft orbs filled my view.
“See if he’s got the screwdriver you need.” Almost a whisper, her mouth at my ear, breath on my cheek.
“What?” Turning my head, kissing distance. Her eyes laughing, dancing.
Finney. “Both kinds, Phillips or flat in the top tray, there, on the left.” He put the switch back in the housing, coming to his feet. “Now looky, order a new switch soon. Or I will, you want. This one’s seen better days.”
He stamped out to turn the power back on and test the setup. I went back up to the screen door to tighten the screws. The pump began humming. I could hear Finney talking, then Carole laughing. She sounded like a teenager.
Later I walked him to his truck.
Finney lit a cigarette, smoke curling over his greasy cap. “You met her hubby? No?” Opening his door, climbing in. “Best steer clear, youse. That one’s trouble. Seen her type before. Won’t come to no good end.” Slamming his door, he pulled away, the old Studebaker wheezing like its owner.
Candi was making a PB&J when I got home. She lived above the carriage house with her mom, Uncle’s bookkeeper. She was always a brat, always underfoot, always a tattletale. But, she was company in an empty house. Regina, our housekeeper, left at five on Wednesdays to go to her sister’s place. Uncle Bart ate at the club, the cubs fended for themselves.
“Want some?” Grape jam on her lip, peanut butter breath.
I wiped her lip with my finger.
“Hey don’t! Go wash your hands!” Tempest in a teapot, she.
“I’m gonna grill a steak, you want some?” I pulled out a porterhouse.
“Not until you wash. Your hair’s got sawdust in it. G’wan, I’ll do the marinate.”
The shower felt great after the day’s work. I tried not to think about the lady out back, or her pool, but it was hard. In a flash, so was I. It wouldn’t have taken much, maybe a few strokes, blessed relief…
The toilet flushed, water went white hot. I yelled, pulling the shower curtain back. Candi was snugging up her panties, under her skirt.
“Jesus, escort kadıköy Bunkie, get a grip.” She looked down. “Oh, I guess you did. You musta been thinking about Mrs. Baum.”
I stepped out, wrapping a towel. “Izzat her last name?”
“Yeah, that rabbit faced women with the boobs following you and Finney around earlier.”
“She’s got a normal face. Rabbit? Really?”
“Like you looked at her face. Even old Finney looked ditzed. I watched from my window, so don’t deny. Gimme the towel, I’ll get your back.”
She dried me, then reached around, giving me a pull or two. “Still thinking about the boobs, huh?”
“How could you tell?”
She gave it a squeeze. Her other hand snaked around, massaging my balls, her small chest against my back. “I oughta make it spit.” She handed me fast.
I gasped, just a little more…
“Hah.” Hands suddenly gone, slickness on the little head. “Today is NOT your day. Maybe Ole Rabbit Face can help you out. Get dressed and get grilling. Salads are done.”
It was hot up in the house, even in just my gym shorts. I went down to the basement den to watch TV and cool off. Candi went home after dinner to do chores and all was quiet. I turned something on. It was a commercial for the new wide tracking Pontiac, then a smoker’s toothpaste after that. I fell asleep.
I was dreaming about cheerleaders being at a baseball game and wondering how this could be. The girl on the PA kept calling my name and something kept hitting my arm. I awoke, disoriented and confused. Candi was punching my arm lightly, calling me.
“What? What are you doing?” Sleep still beckoned me.
“Mom’s on a date. I decided you needed company.”
“But I was asleep!”
“It’s too early. C’mon, wake up. We’ll play cards.”
“Like what, strip poker?”
“Bunkie, you’re a doofus. That’s nothing new. I know what. We’ll play Twister. Get you limbered up.”
“Who’s gonna spin the spinner? It’s just us.”
Candi did her patience of Job look. “I’ve got a spinner for each of us. C’mon, get up.”
I drank some ice water while Candi put down the mat. Shortly, we were sprawled, trying not to touch an elbow or knee to the ground. It did help to work the stiffness out.
My competitor was a mere slip of a girl, all brown eyes and tied back black hair. She was skinny too, always had been. Her doe-like face was delicate, impish, with a humorous mouth that she mainly used to get me in trouble as we grew up.
It was the third game. I’d lost the first two to Candi, Today’s Modern Spider. I spun her dial. “Left hand green.”
She flipped around under me, hand touching the green dot.
“That’s cheating. You can’t stop touching the other places,” I said.
“I know, but it was a good move. Plus my right hand is free.”
I was above her with my knee over her head. “Then spin the spinner, OK?”
She looked up. “I see your donkey. No underwear tonight?” She reached up with her ‘free’ hand, giving me a stroke.
“Stop it. Just play the game or I’m getting up. Besides, you had your shot.”
Candi purred, “You’re already getting up, boyo. I’ll kiss it if you can come down without going off your spots.”
All of a sudden, the pest was trying to be a minx. “You wouldn’t know what to do. Now YOU’RE being the doofus.”
“Bend down here and find out, Mr. Man About Town. I double dare you.”
“Uh huh, yeah.” I managed to bend down until I dangled before her pouty lips. I was starting to call her bluff when she did stretch up and kiss it. Just kissed it. Like you’d kiss a maiden aunt at a Christmas party. I started laughing.
She smacked my balls. “Stop it! Pay attention, you.” Candi tugged my shorts down and pulled me lower, engulfing me in her soft wet mouth.
This was new. What had gotten into her?
It was electrifying, being gently sucked from below, her hand caressing my tightened sac. Suddenly, all I could hear was my own pounding heartbeat, all I could feel was my manhood’s imminent explosion, just from the surprise of it all. My vision started purpling and felt slickness issue from me unbidden into her wide, youthful mouth.
She had laid down on the mat, the game forgotten. Her knees were bent up and out, her skirt splayed towards her waist. In the dim light I could see her little crease in the white cotton undies and what looked like a small wet spot midway down.
I lowered my head to look closer and smelled girl sex. Candi stopped to get her breath, gently jacking me all the while. I pulled the elastic at her thigh to the side, her kitten exposed, a jeweling at her entrance, inner lips already open, accepting. I was wondering at her furriness, long straight ermine velvet concealing her pudenda, only to part at her pearl, just beginning to peek out, then down the furrow, the oozing of her tight entrance betraying her.
I tried to pull her panties down. Candi stopped me at mid thigh, firmly, her hand on mine, yet still she sucked. I softly ran my finger back and forth through her soaked maltepe escort fur, making her spasm. Emboldened, I diddled her until she gave a gurgled shriek, coltish thighs trembling.
She took me out of her mouth, the air suddenly cool on my wet hardness.
“Bunkie, oh God, I think I had an orgasm and I might have wet myself.” Shivering, she started pulling her panties back up. “Is the back of my skirt wet?”
I reached below her, cupping her soft butt. “Feels dry to me.”
“Whatever, but is my skirt dry?”
I twisted around to be parallel to her and felt again. “Yeah, you’re OK.”
Candi reached down. “You’re still hard. You wanna make it spit, maybe a little rub?”
“I won’t argue. How’d you learn to do that?” I shifted around above her.
“Do what, that kissing thing?” She held me against the cleft in her soaked panties, rubbing up and down, jacking me gently. “Something about it in Redbook,” she breathed, jerking as she rubbed me over her clit. “Ooh, still sensitive!” She undulated her hips, her soft hand tugging me gently.
I pushed her blouse up, no bra below. Candi didn’t really need one but she had soft puffy nips. I remember the first time I got her top off I was amazed at how inviting they were. I’d kissed them till she squirmed and made me stop.
“You still like my titties?” She breathed in my ear. “Pull on them, don’t pinch, yeah, uh huh, like that!”
I was already on the way, speech escaped me. Candi was jacking me fast, rubbing my head against her clit. She made a frustrated sound, reached down to pull her panties to the side.
“Oh God yes, that’s MUCH better! Are you gonna spray my puss?”
She curled her hips up , slapping herself with me, telling me sexy stuff with a breathy whisper. “C’mon Bunkie. I can feel it jerking. Come on me. Do it!”
Candi had never talked this naughty whenever we petted before. In my surprise, l fell off the edge, gobs of me spurting on her hand and belly, coming so hard, her soft hands squeezing my balls, milking my shaft.
“There. There, better now?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
“You can let go of my nipple anytime!” Giggling in my ear.
I got up off her.
“That was fun, you.” She pulled her panties down and off, using them to wipe up our mess. She propped against the chair, legs spread, skirt up still. She idly twirled a wet pube. “Do you think my pussy’s pretty?”
I propped against the opposite chair. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Your fur feels like a cat’s, except when you pet a cat it doesn’t get all wet and gushy.”
She smiled. “You’re silly.” A sigh, ” This virgin thing can be frustrating. I bet I’m the last one in Jersey!”
We were laughing when the phone rang. Candi’s mom, home from her date.
I pitched a pick up game across town on Friday. It rained in the fifth. The heavens just opened and dumped buckets on us. The wipers on the bus thudded back and forth to little avail and the windows were all steamed up.
Luckily, the rain stopped and the sun came out before my stop. Water dripped from the trees as I was walking down the alley to put my stuff in the carriage house.
“Hey Bunkie, hi!”
It was Carole in her pool, only her head showing above water.
“C’mere. The pump’s still working good, tell Finney thanks for me.” She tucked wet hair behind her ear. “Looks like you’ve been swimming too!”
I put my ball bag down and ambled through the gate. “Naw, got stuck in a storm at the ballpark. Plus we lost 7-2.”
She climbed the ladder out wearing a gold colored bikini. It kind of matched her hair. “I’m sorry. Why don’t you get your trunks on. We’ll do laps.” She pursed her mouth, which in fact did make her look rabbit like. “Unless you’re too tired out.”
They had to be someone else’s boobs I thought. Unreal. Carole took her towel from a chair. “I did find some more Nehi if you want one.”
The pool water smelled of chemicals. Carole had put the sodas where we could reach them without getting out. We stroked along, just doing casual laps, talking.
“You know David’s looking forward to meeting you. Maybe tomorrow? He wanted to know if you clean eavestroughs.” She stopped for a sip. “I told him how I found you up in a tree, so maybe that wouldn’t be a problem, right?”
She was standing with her soda in waist deep water. Soft round boobs bulged out the sides. She must have let the top shrink in the dryer. She was also waiting for a response as it dawned on me, Mr. Social.
“I can handle that, probably.” I knew what I really wanted to handle. Reluctantly I looked away, trying to gauge the height of her two story house. Would Uncle’s ladder reach? I turned back to her.
Carole was wading towards the deep end where I was. “Good. I’ll tell David when he gets home. He’s working late, getting more training in.”
“Did you ever learn the Butterfly stroke when you were on your swim team?” Enough about David, I thought.
“No. The guys did that, girl’s team didn’t, but I always wanted to learn, you know. Looks pretty physical.”
“It is. You make a lot of waves, for sure! It’ll tire you out fast.”
“Can you show me how?”
I gave a short exhibition, Carole watching intently. That’s how it all ended up with her laying belly down across my outstretched arms.
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