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"You know," she said, resting the cold bottle on her thigh, "when I was a kid we used to play under the hose on hot days. It was the only way to keep cool."
"You used to hose me when I was younger," I replied. "I remember that. Also, running under the sprinkler."
"Better than a swimming pool," she said, "although we were never able to afford a pool."
Holding the hose where the water was coming out in a soft spray I looked at her and smiled.
"What?" she asked.
"Stand up," I suggested.
"Why?"
"Because I want to relive a bit of my younger days and yours."
She looked at me a little quizzically and then she did stand up and towards where I was standing, the beer in her hand by her side.
Without waiting I turned the hose on her, spraying, at first, from her waist down. She squealed, jumped up and down and turned around. The spray raked across the back of her shorts. Her shorts were wet and clinging as she turned around.
"You monster," she said, smiling.
"It'll cool you down," I answered back quickly.
She laughed as the spray played across her feet. I then raised the hose so that her tee shirt experienced the soft spray, dampening down the cotton. She did a full circle and then faced me.
The wet tee shirt not only showed clearly the outline of her tits but the hard points of her nipples, which jutting out, dark against the white cotton. The wet pink shorts clung to her almost like spandex, showing the outline of her panties. The sight was totally erotic and my cock began to respond. She was arousing me.
"It does feel cool," she said, looking directly at me. "At least, and for this you're lucky, you didn't wet my hair. If you had, you'd be in real trouble.
I laughed lightly and played the spray quickly over her front again. For a few minutes, I alternated between her front and back, playing the hose spray backwards and forwards across her body. She was clearly enjoying the cooling spray, moving her body in tune with the moving spray and laughing playfully.
"My turn now," she said, moving up to me and taking the hose. The hose spray was trigger operated and I handed it over.
She stepped back a few paces and then did to me what I'd done to her. I spun around, enjoying the feeling of the cool water counteracting the afternoon heat. She sprayed me for several minutes, both front and back, and when she put the hose down we were both drenched, our clothes sticking hard against our skin.
"Satisfied," she said, moving back to the chair, the beer still in her hand.
I sat down in another chair, also holding a beer as we both lounged back, letting the sun's heat begin the slow drying of our clothes.
"That was fun," I said. But I couldn't keep my eyes off her tits and her hard nipples poking against her tee shirt. The sight of her tits, her nipples and the pink shorts clinging to her hips and stomach and pulled tight against where her legs met resulted in my cock pushing hard against the wet fabric of my shorts.
I was surprised to notice that, as we chatted, a couple of times her glance drifted down from my face down to my shorts. I knew my cock was hard but I didn't think it was very obvious.
We took out time finishing the beers, enjoying the sun's heat. By the time the bottles, and the one that followed, were drained we were damp rather than drenched. She got up and started to walk towards the back door. I rose and followed, enjoying the view.
Her damp shorts were like plastic cling wrap across her ass and hips. The dampness made them a little transparent and her skimpy panties were obvious and the wiggle and movement as she walked, displayed her rounded, peach-like ass to perfection. The zipper at the back showed off the separation of her ass cheeks, making the sight before me even more erotic.
I followed, wishing that instead of 15 yards the walk was more like 50, such was the erotic nature of the view. This was not my mom I was looking at but a sexy woman who made me more aroused than any girl I'd ever been with.
By the time I got through the back door she was standing in front of the sink, looking out the window over the yard. I took the empty bottle she had left on the bench and placed it and the one I had carried in into the recycling container.
She stayed still in front of the sink, saying nothing and washing some glasses that had been used earlier. I could feel a sense of change in the room. There was a slight tension along with silence.