by Casey Grant
“When can you come back?” Mr. Merle said abruptly, his breathing labored.
“What...?” said Brie, caught off-guard.
“With all the rain we've been having, the grass needs to be cut again soon,” said Mr. Merle.
“Next week, I guess,” said Brie.
“I can't wait till next week,” said Mr. Merle.
“Okay, um... how's Friday?”
“Let's do Wednesday,” said Mr. Merle.
“Wednesday? That's tomorrow,” said Brie.
“I know,” he smiled.
“Okay,” said Brie not knowing how to react.
“It's another two hundred in your pocket,” he said.
Brie figured she should be happy and smiled back.
They walked to the car. There was the chirp as Mr. Merle unlocked the doors. Brie opened her passenger-side car door and stared downwards in horror. “Oh God!”
“What?”
“My butt-print!”
Mr. Merle ducked inside and looked over at the passenger seat. He could see two half-moons imprinted on the leather. “Ha! Well, I can't say you didn't warn me.”
“My God, your wife will see that!” said Brie.
“Oh, she won't mind,” he said, starting the car. “Get in.”
“She'll know that it's a butt-print from a girl,” said Brie.
“Yeah, probably, but she's open-minded.”
“She won't be that open-minded,” said Brie as the Audi sped out of the parking lot and onto Town Road.
“I'll tell her that I met this lovely girl mowing the Fugleson’s lawn, next door,” said Mr. Merle. “I'll tell her that I asked if she could do ours and she said 'yes'. I'll tell her that you liked to jump in the lake when you finished the lawn and that I asked you to go for ice cream. Your wet suit left a mark, and on our way home I asked you to take off your clothes.”
What?
“Your top, your shorts, and your wet bathing suit.”
Brie was breathing hard. What the hell? Where did this come from?
“And when I got home I wrapped you in a towel and put your wet clothes out on the balcony.”
“What?” Brie said, finally.
“And then I spanked you for being a naughty girl.”
“I wouldn't let you do that!”
“This is all contingent upon your consent, of course.”
“But that never happened!”
“Not yet,” said Mr. Merle.
“Even if it was true—and it’s definitely not true—you couldn't tell your wife that!” said Brie, “She'd leave you in a second!”
“I told you,” said Mr. Merle, “We have an elastic relationship.”
“No relationship is that elastic.”
“Oh really, Miss worldly-wise, small town eighteen year-old girl?”
“Eighteen and a half. And you don't have to be a douchebag.”
“Sorry. Take off your clothes.”
“No.”
“You know you want to,” said Brad.
Brie had been looking at Mr. Merle's profile this whole time and realized that she would do anything he asked.
For the fifth time today she stripped to her swimsuit, this time quickly. Mr. Merle glanced at her, “I'm sure that more than one spectator at your swim-meets was there for the wrong reasons.”
“Be quiet, Mr. Merle.”
“Brad. Calling me 'Mr. Merle' makes me feel like I should be driving a white van.”
“Brad.”
“Now take off that suit,” he said.
“This is a small town,” said Brie. “If you get pulled over, I'm toast.”
“We're a mile from the house.”
That smile. Jesus. What options did a girl have? She slid a strap off one shoulder, then over the other, revealing the capacious breasts that the men of Trestle dreamed and masturbated over, despite being mostly covered up.
“Nice,” said Brad.
Brie continued, sliding the suit over her hips, then down her legs as the Audi pulled into the Merles’ driveway. She was naked in the passenger seat and staring straight ahead.
“How many guys have seen this view?” said Brad.
“Maybe two. I don't know.”
“Did they appreciate it?”
“I guess.”
“You're beautiful.”
“So how does your story end?” said Brie.
“I don't want to ruin it for you. On your knees. Turn around.”
Brie did as told, turning to face the side window. She could hear her breath and feel her pulse pounding in her head.
She heard a crack, followed a split-second later by a sharp sting. “That's for making a mark on my seat,” said Brad.
“I'm sorry Brad!”
Crack!
“That's for not being serious about school.”
Crack! Another sting.
“That's for strutting around the Fugleson's yard trying to tease me.” He WAS watching!
Crack! Brie was feeling the wetness between her legs.
“Hmmm,” said Brad, pausing, “What else have you done wrong?”
“I missed a spot on your lawn and was too lazy to go back over it!” said Brie, excitingly.
Crack! God, it hurt! But it sure felt good.
“What else did you do wrong?”
“I rushed my way through the hedge trimming. I wasn't as careful as I should.”
Crack!
“Why were you in a rush?”
“I wanted to get to the pool.”
Crack!
“Why did you want to get to the pool?”
“So you could check me out in my suit because I knew I looked hot.” She wanted to touch herself so badly.
Crack!
“I haven't been picking up my room.”
Crack!
“I've been pretending to not hear my mother because she's such a twit.”
Crack! Brie slid her fingers between her folds and let out a yelp. Her fingers felt like heaven. But before she could savor her touch, Brad grabbed her from behind and pulled her to him. “Are you okay?!”
“What? Yeah, sure...” said Brie, tossed rudely out of the way of her oncoming pleasure train.
“You cried out,” said Brad. “I thought you were hurt.”
“No, no, no...” Brie said, looking into Brad's bright blue eyes, eyes that were sucking her in like a tractor beam. “I was touching myself, if you must know.”
“Oh... I'm sorry.”
“You're silly but sweet,” said Brie pushing her mouth to his, full on the lips. She had made-out with boys before, but none of them were like Brad Merle.
“Come inside,” said Brad between kisses.
“I—okay....” said Brie, never wanting nothing so much in her entire nineteen years. She gazed over Brad's shoulder and read 7:05 on the dashboard. “Shit! I'm late!” she said.
Brie threw on her shorts and tank top, clutching her swimsuit in her hand, opening the car door and running to the pick-up’s open cargo bay. Her lawnmower was still on the driveway right below the gate. Brie bent down to heave the mower into the pick-up when Brad intercepted her, tossing the fifty-pound mower into the truck bed like an empty bottle of Drano. Brie paused for a second, taking in what she just saw. Brie was proud of the strength she had gained from four years of competitive swimming, but that, right there? That was different. That was strength. She thought about how Brad could easily overpower her, about how he could do anything he wanted to do her and how she'd have to comply. She felt moist and her breathing was hard. She wanted to be taken right now, taken and subjugated— conquered! To be made his slave! But mom and dad needed the truck.
“Tomorrow at ten, all right?” said Brad.
“Yes! Brie said jumping into the cab, kissing him through the open window. She put the truck in gear and sped out of the driveway.
Brie raced through the streets of Trestle, driving with one hand while touching herself with the other. Her shorts were unzipped and lack of underwear made her pussy
easily accessible. It was hard to concentrate while rubbing and driving. Oh, there's Mrs. Anderson... as a grey Ford passed her, Brie waved to Mrs. Anderson with her free hand.
Suddenly an exquisite charge surged through Brie . Her mouth opened and a loud moan filled the cab. “Ughhhhhhhh!” Christ, there's Bob Lawson! A Honda Accord pulled up right next to her at the light. Didn't matter, that wasn't going to stop Brie from coming. She waved and the light changed to green and, faster than a drag racer, she slammed her foot to the pedal and pulled away, accelerating forward, her orgasm charging through her.
Brie’s breathing was hard, yet relaxed and fulfilled. She wanted Brad Merle, and God, the universe and her body wanted Brie to have Brad Merle.
Brie turned the corner and could see her mom and dad in the front of her house waiting for her.
“Sorry!” Brie said as leapt out of the truck hoping her parents didn't see her with her swimsuit clutched in her hand.
“That's okay,” her dad said, grabbing the mower out of the back.
“Where are you going?” said Brie absentmindedly, walking into the open garage.
“The Country Hen”. In Wartsburg,” said Mom.
“Have fun and have her back by 11:00,'” said Brie, impishly to her dad as she disappeared into the house and ran up to her room. She walked to her second floor window that looked out over the town, and Lake Willard beyond. There, along the shore, almost obscured by trees, was Brad's house, looking different than everything around it.
Downburst
Brie finished the Bartlett's lawn at 9:45, but instead of jumping in the lake, she pushed her mower back up the lawn. She had to be at Brad's at 10:00. And, besides, she didn't have her regular one-piece on today.
She had only worn her blue bikini once before. It was at the Trestle Memorial Day Picnic and she vowed to never wear in public again (at least not in this town). Sorry Mr. Bartlett, this bathing suit would be reserved for Brad Merle. You couldn't handle it anyway.
But if Brie ever needed to cool off, now was the time. She had never been more uncomfortable. Even now in mid-morning, the temperature was in the eighties and the muggy air was stifling.
Brie lifted her mower into her Tundra, this time struggling, still mindful of Brad's display of strength the day before.
Inside the truck, she turned on the AC but the Freon needed to be changed. All that was coming out was lukewarm air.
She made the ten-minute trip across town in five minutes, skidding into Brad's circular driveway. She opened the car door. She exited in slow motion, giving Brad plenty of time to greet her in the driveway and lift her mower out of the back.
She unlatched the rear gate, slowly. And then she waited.
Thirty seconds later she gave up. Brie reached into the truck bed and lifted the lawn mower herself. In today's heat the mower seemed to weigh twice as much.
Brie filled the small gas tank then wheeled the mower to the side of the yard facing the pool. She bounded up the stairs to the sliding glass door and knocked. Seconds passed and there was no response. Brad must be on a conference call.
She bounded down the steps and started the mower. After twenty feet she stopped and had an idea. Why wait till she was finished with her mowing to show off? Brie peeled off her tank top and shorts, revealing her blue bikini. It wasn't a thong but didn't have to be since it showed plenty of real estate— and what it didn't show, it heavily implied. And if Mr. Fugleson next door caught a glimpse of her she would just chalk it up to collateral damage.
Brie started the mower and began her circuit. She laughed. The grass looked no different than it did the day before. She wouldn't be filling a single bag of grass today. And since the grass had just been cut the day, before it was impossible to make her usual straight lines. But the short grass provided no resistance, making it feel like she was wheeling the mower along the sidewalk.
Brie made sure her back was arched. She closely monitored every opportunity to bend over the mower (usually when she started a row or was pushing the mower up the hill), causing her beautiful ass to splay out, stretching her Gluteus Maximus. But since no one was witnessing this magnificent display of ripe womanhood, it didn't make a sound.
Dark clouds were massing to west. Every time Brie looked up they seemed to be a few miles closer. She checked the hedge trimming that she had done the day before and fixed a few of the missed areas (the boo-boos that had resulted in her spankings).
She wheeled the mower to the driveway (leaving it for Brad to lift) and jumped in the pool. If Brad had been watching any of her bikini-mowing, he would now be at the breaking point. He’d ravish her with his chiseled torso (covered in a downy coat of chest hair). She imagined his muscled, naked body running out the house, his steel erection bobbing in front of him as he leaped into the pool and harpooned her with cock. But Brie looked up again at the large picture windows and saw no sign of any leering man stuck on an endless conference call gazing outside adoringly.
Okay, Fine.
Brie climbed out of the pool and was immediately cooled by the breeze. Despite the chill she reached behind her and unclasped her top and for the first time felt wind on her bare breasts. She pulled the bottoms down over her hips, sliding both halves of her bikini under the leg of a chaise lounge to anchor them. Cold, she nevertheless took her time circling the pool naked, taking long, slow strides, stopping and examining various noteworthy things on the pool deck, crouching over, twisting and turning her body in every possible way. In minutes she had dried off and was no longer shivering.
She sat at the edge of the pool, leaning backwards onto the pool deck, propping herself up on her elbows, her large breasts and flat stomach were on display for some lucky observer. But still no Brad.
“Brie?”
Standing at the pool gate was Brad's neighbor, and Brie’s lawn-care customer, Mr. Fugleson. He was looking right at her.
“Agh!” Brie screamed as she leaped into the pool.
“I—I can come back later,” said Mr. Fugleson.
“No, no that's okay...” said Brie, surfacing, sure that she was now completely covered by the water.
“I was looking for Brad...” he said, stammering.
“I don't think Brad is here—that's why I'm here—I didn't think anyone was home. I wouldn't do this if anyone was home, but you can try knocking.”
“I need to pick-up my nail gun,” said Fugleson.
“I see,” said Brie. “Well, give it a try.”
“Its going to storm,” said Mr. Fugleson, looking up. “You might want to get out of the pool. You can take shelter at my house if you want.”
“Thank you, but I live five minutes away.”
Mr. Fugleson walked up the steps and knocked on the sliding glass door. He was over forty, sort of handsome but.... though he was not fat, he was slightly stooped and looked kind of squishy. His wife, Mrs. Fugleson was nice, but was shaped like a block.
To Brie's surprise the sliding door opened. “Oh, hi Tony... what's up?” said Brad.
“I was wondering if I could get the nail gun back from you,” said Mr. Fugleson. “I need it for my birdhouse.”
“You bet. Come on in— oh hi, Brie! The lawn looks great!” Brad and Tony Fugleson disappeared inside.
“Fuck you.” Brie murmured, pounding a fist into the water. That scumbag! He had his fun with me yesterday and he's already kicked me to the curb! Brie saw her bikini and shorts held in place under the leg of the chaise. Twenty feet separated her from them. How long would Mr. Fugleson be inside? Should she risk trying to grab them?
The door opened and out came Mr. Fugleson holding a nail gun. “...Thanks, Brad,” as he shut the sliding glass door behind him. He walked down the steps slowly, his eyes locked on Brie. “I saw you mowing here today, but weren't you also here yesterday too?”
“I didn't finish so I had to come back,” said Brie.
“You were also wearing a lovely bikini— one that you have since discarded. I never saw you wearing anything like t
hat when you did my lawn.”
“I just bought it yesterday, said Brie, cringing at the come-on. “Maybe I can wear it when I do your lawn next week?”
“I just don't want to be left out,” smiled Mr. Fugleson, looking up into the sky again. “It looks bad.”
“I'm leaving now—as soon as you leave,” Brie said glancing over at her clothes across the pool deck.
“Oh right— bye,” Mr. Fugleson said as he disappeared around the corner.
The dark sky that had been rolling in from the west had arrived and was now swirling right above her. Electrical storms were not unusual in the mountains in the summertime but this dark mass spinning above frightened her. It was a green color that Brie had never seen before.
There was a roar in the distance. It was the sound of wind tearing through the birch and pines, growing louder, covering the distance rapidly. Suddenly, the wall of wind was upon her sending umbrellas and deck furniture into the pool. Branches and leaves choked the air around her. She could see her clothes and bikini blow past her. My phone!
No, wait, there it was—it had slid across the pool deck until it was wedged into corner. She lifted herself out of the pool, shocked at the thirty-degree temperature drop and dove back in. When Brie came to the surface, she was hit by a battery of rain blowing sideways and stinging her face.
Brie swam to the side of the pool towards the direction of the wind, scrunching herself underneath the lip of the pool. It sheltered herself from the onslaught, her mouth just an inch above the water line. The wind sounded like a carwash blower. In an instant she felt herself go light, rising up out of the water into the freezing wind. She was being sucked out of the pool.
Twister!
She felt a massive force under her arms. Through the blinding rain she could see someone bending over and scooping her out of the pool like a skyhook. He lifted her naked body to him in his massive arms, the rain pummeling her so hard that it felt like being pelted with buckshot. “What are you doing out here?!” Brad yelled above the tempest. Cradling Brie, he ran up the stairs and into the house. Brie was now freezing, shaking uncontrollably.
With one hand Brad flung open the twelve foot tall sliding glass door open and hauled her body inside. Dry, air-conditioned air replaced the wet wind from outside but it still drained the warmth from Brie's wet body.