A foreshadowing that summer again would follow spring descended on my neighborhood in the form of a minor heat wave one early May evening. We'd had a particularly cold winter and early spring, and thus when the sun had brought us an unusually early warm day, we opened the windows on the bedroom level, giving the house its first breath of fresh air in over three months. My home office was on the bedroom level in what had once been the house's second-largest bedroom, down a long hallway, over the garage, and at the front side of the house. It had been light outside when I was called to dinner, but it was dark before I returned to my office to continue work on a major proposal my firm needed finished sooner rather than later.
I entered my office and raised my hand to turn on the lights. But my movement was arrested by the sound of murmuring and what I distinctly recognized as moaning. I had two windows in my office, now both open. One was on the front of the house over the driveway that led into the double garage beneath me. The other window was at the side of the house, only about ten feet from the fence line to my neighbor's back yard.
It took me several seconds to realize that the moaning sounds were coming from the window on the side. I moved to the window in the darkness and looked out and down into my neighbor's yard.
I hadn't known he had put in an outdoor hot tub, but there it was, at the back corner of his house. It was fenced off, but my window looked almost straight down into it. There was decking and soft patio lights around the hot tub and even softer lights inside the tub, diffused by the gently roiling, gurgling water, being moved by the pump. It was really a surprise to see. It hadn't been there before, back in the fall, the last time I actually had come to this window and looked out. He must have had it installed sometime during the winter.
A trim, well-muscled man of late middle age, undoubtedly my neighbor, Marty, was sitting on the side of the pool, facing me. He seemed to be the one doing the moaning. Another, younger and slighter man was crouched down in the water between his knees, facing him. I could not tell positively what was happening, but the expression I could see on my neighbor's face illuminated by the pool lighting and moaning he was doing left little doubt that he was receiving a blow job.
This sudden, totally unexpected view conjured from below my home office window on a warm night following a confining winter and early spring shocked me into inaction. I just stood at the window, staring at the scene audaciously being played out below my window. Even when my neighbor stood and changed positions with the young man who had been giving him suck and spread the man's legs around his thighs and began to fuck him, I remained there, a surprised voyeur. The moaning changed to a higher pitch. The young man was the one doing the moaning now down in the hot tub. I quickly realized the moaning had taken on a stereo tone, though—tenor and baritone after the initial bass. Now I was moaning as well.
I stood there, transfixed, all the way to the climax, which was punctuated by the young man writhing and groaning hard and my neighbor's bulbous buttocks undulating at an ever-quicker pace until he cried out and lurched with a final definitive, long-held thrust. And I remained there, watching, long after they both had sunk down into a close, sitting position inside the tub, their arms entwined and their mouths joined in a prolonged kiss.
I tried to force the images out of my mind, but when I went to bed that night, they started to flood into my consciousness, preventing me from sleeping, causing me to twist and turn in the bed. I found I could not keep my hand off of my cock, which was at full arousal. I could not masturbate myself into sleep, however. My wife would have felt the movement of the bed. I briefly considered rising, going out to the hall bath, shutting the door behind me, and stroking myself to relief.
But my wife turned in the bed and reached for me and found my aroused cock. She murmured her surprise. She wasn't accustomed to finding me hard. I rolled over on top of her, spread her thighs, settled my pelvis down between them, and for the first time in more than a month we fucked languidly in the breeze coming in from the open windows. The rhythm of our mating brought my cock relief. But her moans of unexpected pleasure conjured up what I had seen from my home office window, and all of the time I was fucking her, images of what I had seen in my neighbor's hot tub raced through my mind. I put her in the same position I had seen of the two in the hot tub, her on her back below me, and me between her thighs, holding her legs raised and spread with a grip on her thighs and moving my hips back and forth, pumping her. My eyes were closed, imagining myself in the hot tub, with the small male under me, taking my cock deep, and I gave up my seed.
