The summer that the kids were at camp and Ralph was away at a symposium, I finally had the house to myself for a change, and my plan was to do as little as possible.

I put on my most impossible string bikini, slathered myself in cocoa butter, and headed for the backyard with a trashy novel. A few birds chirped lazily in the heat. The only other thing to break the silence was the snip of hedging shears as our neighbor, Mr. Raskin, worked his side of the bushel.

Now it was a bit wicked of me, but Mr. Raskin has always been a rather horny old trout, so I struck a bit of a provocative pose there on the chaise to tease him. I was surprised when a head appeared over the greenery, and it was not Mr. Raskin. It was his 18-year-old son Zachary, home from college.

“Oh hello, dear,” I said, somewhat startled. “Please tell your mother that I’m almost done with her tennis-skirt pattern, and I’ll have it back to her in a day or so.”

“Mom and dad are in the Poconos, Mrs. Page,” Zachary said. “You can keep it a while.” I thought for a moment.

“Zachary,” I said. “You look thirsty. I’ll be glad to share this nice pitcher of fresh lemonade if you’ll just even up the hedges a bit on this side.” Zachary paused in his clipping and considered.

“Okay,” he decided. Leaping the hedge at its lowest point, he landed neatly on my side. He half-heartedly snipped a few leaves, and edged in my direction. I filled up my glass and held it out to him invitingly. I posed, bending my knee and pointing the toes a little, to make the muscles flex. “It’s so hot and sweaty,” I said languidly. “I find that the easiest way to cool off is with a nice shower, don’t you?”

“Yes.” said Zachary.

“In fact I’m off to take one now, and I suggest you do the same, young man.” I sat up and stretched, letting my bikini top lift a little. Zachary quickly drained the glass and handed it back to me. I reached as though to take it, then hesitated. “It’s a dry summer, isn’t it? I imagine the reservoirs are low,” I said. “Don’t take a long shower.”

“No,” said Zachary.

“I have an idea — follow me.” I refilled his glass and led him straight to the upstairs bathroom. I turned on the water in the tub. I latched the door shut. The room filled with steam as I revealed my simple plan. “One shower uses less water than two, wouldn’t you agree?” I said, reaching for him.

“Yes,” he agreed nervously. We’d certainly waste a lot less water if we showered together; it was a simple matter of practicality. My fingers found the string on his swim trunks, and loosened them. His hand came up in response; it traced the line of my bikini top, dipped beneath the Spandex. I thrust my bust toward him, encouraging him to press my breasts. The nipples strained at the material.

My hand slipped down the back of his loosened trunks, and I squeezed his young ass. I lifted my mouth up to nibble his lemonade lips, and felt a shiver go up the muscle. I guided him into the shower now; the warm water hit my hands on his back. Something in him seemed to relax, though looking down at the shorts I had almost worked off him I could see something else stiffening up.

His trunks hit the floor of the shower with a wet slap. Inspired, I knelt in front of him. My face was level with his cock, so I got a good look at how hard it already was. My lips were wet, and I pressed them around the head of his cock, letting them part slowly as they engulfed the shaft, sucking hungrily, taking in as much as I could. He gasped, and I felt the throb of his vgein in my mouth. I eased back and rose up in front of him.

When I pressed lightly on his shoulders, sank straight to his knees before me. Then I felt the softest tickle on the lips of my pussy. He was slowly licking his way up and then down my slit, venturing a little farther with each pass, until I could feel him touch the clit itself with a maddening flutter. I thrust my hips at him; he sucked harder at my clit, nibbling it with his teeth, then extending his tongue up into my vulva. His hands reached around and squeezed my ass. My hands gripped in his hair and I tried to yank him closer; I couldn’t get enough.

I took his hands in my own and slid them up from my ass to under my armpits. “Stand up,” I said, pressing my back against the wall. “There are condoms in the medicine cabinet.”

Zach stepped out of the shower to get one. I leaned against the wall while he unrolled it down his cock. He moved in real close to me, getting a good balance. I undulated my hips till my vagina caught the tip of his cock. He drove it up inside, and then he was screwing me up against the shower wall.

My legs climbed up and wrapped around his hips. I hung on tight, and he pounded into me, the heat building in my cunt. My nipples stood straight and hard, and Zachary started to make frantic little panting sounds. I felt my clit explode. I cried out and heard him scream with me. The water from the shower ran down us in relentless rivulets as we came against the hard tiles.

I dried him off and sent him back home with a quick pat on the ass. “Good-bye, Mrs. Page,” he said very politely. There are still three days before our families will be back, and the hedge still needs a trim.