AVAILABLE FORMATS:  PALM (PDB)  Mobi (MOBI) - Kindle Friendly  
MSWord (DOC)  PDF  MSReader (LIT)  Text  RTF  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  

He stood at the window of his first floor study, totally engrossed with the sight of the
woman in the back garden next door.
	She sat in the sunshine, wearing a tiny bikini, idly flicking the pages of a magazine.
	Despite the distance between them he was captivated by her apparent beauty and guessed
she was probably the youngest of the three daughters.
	Remaining motionless, mesmerised by her alluring form and the unexpected excitement it
was creating within him, he hoped he was right and she was the one due to visit him that
evening.
***
	Mark Newman was a lonely man, who kept himself busy and had very little contact with the
opposite sex during his self imposed exile after the death of his wife three years ago.
	The motorway crash responsible for his loss had changed his life completely.  Now alone
and modestly well off from an early inheritance, he saw no reason to continue with the cut
and thrust of business, so resigned his position in the city and opted for a quiet
existence.
	His time was now dedicated to the three real interests remaining to him, painting,
writing and music, which he used to augment his financial wellbeing.  He sold a few
pictures to the tourists at Portsea during the summer, had a number of short stories
accepted by a national magazine and gave piano lessons to several of the children in the
neighbourhood.
***
	Naked, he continued to watch from behind the net curtain for a full fifteen minutes
before she moved.
	Behind him, his computer was switched on ready for the next chapter of the novel he'd
started to write.  He tried to discipline himself to undertake a minimum of two hours on
this project each day, usually working in the nude during the current hot spell.  It
wasn't going well and he was aware the story lacked substance.  Writing within the
guidelines issued by a major publisher for erotic manuscripts, he found it easy to
describe a sexual encounter, but much more difficult to portray the emotion that would
lift the mechanical coupling into a sensual work of art.
	The girl entranced him. Looking at her he felt emotions which had been dormant for so
long.  Unconsciously he pulled in his belly, clenched his buttocks and stroked the erect
penis that had grown hard at his groin.
	She put the magazine down and looked around.  Apparently satisfied she wasn't
overlooked, she stood and removed the bikini top.  Mark scarcely had time to admire the
pert little breasts when, with a sharp intake of breath, he realised her pants were coming
off as well.
	Instinctively he squeezed his swollen organ and exhaled slowly, attempting to control
his excitement with the scene before him.
	She was tiny, no more than five feet tall, slim and perfectly proportioned.  With lush
black hair hanging straight to the swell of her buttocks, she made a riveting picture.
	His eyes registered the innocence often portrayed by the bloom of youth while his cock
twitched in anticipation of the delights probably available between the tantalising
thighs.
	Simultaneously she scratched her belly with one hand and shaded her eyes with the other
while looking up at the sun.  It was obvious she was assessing the optimum position to
settle at and after some hesitation pulled the lounger across the grass to a point beyond
Mark's vision, behind a clump of roses.
	He immediately felt a sense of loss.
	Left with his memory of the youngster and a rock hard, pulsating penis it was suddenly
imperative to seek the satisfaction his organ was demanding.
	Moving swiftly to the bathroom, he stood with legs apart in front of the sink.  For a
few seconds he studied the reflection of his lean frame supporting the excited shaft in
the mirror.  Then, taking the throbbing shank in his hand, his eyes slipped out of focus
while his mind spawned the necessary fantasy.
	The reverie took him into the garden with the girl.  ‘Both naked, they embraced and now
it was her fingers wrapped around his rod.  Their lips brushed together as her hand gently
rubbed the hot flesh back and forth.’
	He shivered, almost out of his mind with the anticipation of possessing her.
	‘Suddenly she was spread-eagled on the grass with Mark kneeling between her thighs and
his erection poised at the entrance to her intimate slit.  He looked up, seeking her
consent for what was to come. She smiled and he thrust forward, entered her, trembled and
climaxed.’
	The immensity of the orgasm that rippled through his trunk and the volume of liquid that
jetted into the bowl shocked him as reality returned to his numbed senses.
	With his tension spent, Mark was overtaken by a pleasant perception of having
experienced the emotional gratification that the characters of his novel apparently
lacked.
	Returning to his desk, with semen still oozing onto his thigh, he quickly amended the
manuscript until he was satisfied the story now reflected some of the passion he'd felt
within his imagination.  Then, exhausted, he slumped into the chair and let his mind
wander, slowly recollecting his initial contact with the family next door.