Your dorky neighbor is entranced by the sight of your hairless slit and your perfect ass. You chuckle as you feel his eyes boring into you. It takes a minute before Tommy returns to reality.
"Uh," he stammers, "I think your other side could do with some oil too. Don't want you want an all-over tan?"
"Hmmm," you consider the question. "Yeah, I guess you have a point. Don't want to burn or anything."
You tilt your head back to look at Tommy over your shoulder.
"Do you mind?" You ask, motioning to him standing in the way of your legs.
"Oh, sorry," Tommy replies as he moves his leg and stands to one side.
You ever-so-slowly lift yourself and turn over. You are very deliberate with the transition, giving Tommy a great view of your big breasts hanging beneath you, pulling to the side as you turn to face him, and then spreading out on your chest as you settle onto your back. Your pink nipples are rock hard, reflecting the naughty excitement of being touched by Tommy.
Tommy actually takes a step back as you present the fullness of your tight teenage body to him, stretched out and smooth on the deck chair.
"Well?" You ask.
You push your sunglasses up over your eyes and relax, adjusting yourself to be comfortable on the chair.
Tommy grabs the oil bottle, his hands shaking. Just as he grabs it, ready to squeeze some into his palm, you open your legs slightly and let out a small moan. This causes Tommy to squeeze the bottle hard. A warm gush of tanning oil squirts out and splashes across your body. The first bits splatters on your breasts, a second pool forms on your stomach, and the last bit lands just above your teenage slit.
"Uh, um," Tommy stutters again, not sure how to proceed.
"Well, I don't want you to tan unevenly," you say and smile softly to Tommy.
"Sorry, sorry," mumbles Tommy as he kneels down next to you.
He places a hand on your stomach to work the oil into your smooth skin and firm muscles. While he is rubbing, you relax and stretch. Your hand dangles from the edge of the chair and brushes against Tommy's rigid pole.
He doesn't even flinch.
'Must be focusing on his job,' you think with a sly smile.
Tommy finally finishes working the oil into your tummy and his gaze wanders to your breasts. Then he glances down at your slit, not sure how to continue. His hands rest on your stomach, the outside of your hand brushes against his petrified pecker. |