Daydream by deirdre I admit it. I stared out the front window. Our neighbors next door were having their house painted, and I was watching the kid who was doing it! He must have been a college kid, earning money in his spare time. It was hot and he was wearing nothing but cutoffs. I stared at the tanned form of his back. I wondered if he was on some sports team--he had the right build, but I guess then he wouldn't be doing odd jobs. I wondered if he had some little college girlfriend. I had some work to do on the front yard. It was awfully hot, really too hot to work. The boy must really need the money. I slipped on a bikini and then pulled some cutoffs over the bottom. I went out front, ready to pull some weeds. I couldn't watch him while I worked without being really obvious and wondered if I should have stayed inside so I could see him better. I wondered if he had noticed me or if he were watching me. I may have 15 years on him, but I'm not bad in a bikini. I looked back at him. He wasn't on the ladder, but was stirring some paint, and looking in my direction! I quickly looked away. He *was* watching me. I worked, nervously. "Hi!" I almost jumped out of my skin--he had walked up behind me. "Oh, hello," I returned, standing up and turning to him. I brushed the dirt and weeds from my cutoffs. Then I felt like I should have stayed kneeling and should have looked up at him in a confident way. I just didn't have it in me to remain cool and collected. "It's really too hot to be working," he added. I knew that. I wondered what he thought of me. Of my body. The older woman. Did he even think of me in that way? Or was he just interested in those *little girls*? *His own age* I mentally added, berating myself. What would it be like to be his little college girlfriend? "I just can't stand to see this garden needing weeding like this," I improvised. "Do you do gardening too?" I asked. "Oh no," he said, laughing. "You're on your own!" "Well, I don't need any painting done," I said. Not too bright, but I was getting jittery. Did he know what he was doing to me? "Don't work *too* long!" he added with a laugh and then he turned and went back. I stood there like an idiot, watching his back. It was too hot to work. I wondered what my hair looked like. I gathered my things and put them away in the garage and went back inside. I went to get some iced tea. But I got a wine cooler instead. I sat in the kitchen, drinking my wine cooler. I don't usually do that... I *never* do that during the day--it must have been I was still agitated from meeting that boy. I wondered again what it would be like to be his little college girlfriend. He'd lead me to his dorm room which would be messy, with posters of girls and rock bands. He'd turn around and kiss me. With such a careless motion, he'd turn and capture my head. Our tongues would be gently meeting. He'd slip his lips away from mine and whisper in my ear "I *want* you!". I awoke from my revere and again wondered at myself, sitting in the kitchen, daydreaming like that. I took my cooler into the living room and sat looking out the window. He was still there, painting. His back still bare. I thought of him in the dorm room, taking his shirt off, then slowly undressing me. I had my cutoffs unzipped and my fingers were in the front of my bikini bottoms. He would have me nude, and pick me up as if I weighed nothing, and gently lay me on the bed. Laying on my back, I'd put a hand on his chest as he sat next to me and I'd caress it. He'd run his hands up and down my body, then caress my breasts, then finger me between my legs. His eyes would be locked on mine. My fingers would go to the waste of his shorts and slip into the waste band. He'd smile, remove my hand, lean down to give me a little kiss, and then stand and take off his shorts and briefs. I'd know he had them off even though I couldn't take my eyes from his. He'd get on the bed and straddle me, looking down at me. Finally I'd glance down and see his cock, hard as a rock. He'd take my hand and put it on his cock and I'd encircle it in my grip and squeeze it gently, over and over, rhythmically. I'd watch his face as his mouth opened and his eyes glazed over. I'd smile. Then I'd slow my rhythm and start caressing his cock, lightly, along the lower edge. He'd come to himself and look at me again and take my hand away. Then he'd kiss it and then lean down and whisper in my ear "I *want* you... *now*!" He'd start shifting positions and I'd know I could never stop him. I'd see his mouth flit between a smile of pleasure and another look...of pure need. He was stirring the paint again, just like before when he was watching me. I came and came.