
Perth
Scotland
Monday 7th June, 2010
I was sitting at the breakfast bar having a coffee with my wife before she went to work.
“Brad, are you serious?” Helen was grinning as she waited for a response.
“Yes, the mysterious woman next door has a regular visitor, and I think it’s a man?”
“Not that it’s your concern, but I get the impression this is more than a casual observation.”
“Helen, sweetheart, you may be away often, but I work from upstairs, and there is something funny going on along there. I’m sure it’s a young man, and when I say he’s dropping by regularly, I don’t mean the lawn is being trimmed, or the windows are getting cleaned every other day.”
“Yes, but I’ve seen that woman as I’ve driven past her house. She’s attractive and in her late-thirties. It looks like she’s married or has a partner. Why would she be getting it on with a guy who might be much younger than her?”
“Why not?” I was trying to imagine our neighbour and her visitor—her lucky visitor.
“The guy who sets off early every morning is about six-foot, and unless he’s wearing padding, he’s well-built with a muscular physique.” My wife smiled and raised an eyebrow. “He’s also handsome–actually, they’re an attractive couple. I don’t think the woman would need more.”
“Maybe she has a high sex drive. You never know—her husband or partner might know about the other guy.”
“Brad, will you listen to yourself—I think you’ve been gazing out at the birds with your binoculars and you started fantasising.” She squinted at me. “How far away is the house?”
“Probably about fifty yards. Why?”
“Okay, so our neighbour’s house is about fifty yards away. The back door is hidden behind a high hedge, and the driveway is on the other side so the guy going along the path might be going somewhere else. What makes you think he is a regular visitor to next door—unless you’ve been watching for him?”
“The footpath which separates the back gardens of our houses from the countryside goes along for about two hundred yards, but there are no more houses after that one.”
“Yes, but our road goes along that way too, and it bends around in that direction. Maybe if it’s the window cleaner or a local tradesman, he could live in one of the houses opposite the end of the path.”
“Yes, I suppose, but the houses are like ours—I imagine if it’s a young person he might still live with his parents.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so fixated by the possibility of the woman having a secret visitor.”
“You’re right,” I said, capitulating. “I suppose I should stop gazing out of the window when I’m working.”
“Well, to be honest, your study window looks out in that direction so it would be kind of hard for you to see anything but that house and the countryside.” She laughed. “Just be careful if you’re birdwatching from the window with your binoculars, it would look like you were snooping—it’s not nice to think somebody is watching you.” She paused and looked at me. “I wouldn’t be happy if it were me.”
“I haven’t been watching—it’s just something I’ve noticed—”
“Ah, it’s all coming together now.” Helen laughed. “You’re not actually worried about the visitor—you’re wondering why a good-looking woman might want a lover if she has a big hunky man already.”
“No, I wasn’t—”
“Can you imagine living with a woman and knowing she was seeing somebody else to get extra satisfaction?”
I gazed across the dining table at my lovely wife for a few seconds. “I suppose there would have to be a strong relationship for one person to be content for the other to have a regular lover.”
“Oh my goodness, you have considered that scenario—I thought you’d just say, no.” She smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Could you do it if it were me?”
I wished I’d just said no, but the idea made me hesitate.
“Brad, darling, are you trying to imagine another man, or woman, giving me a good time?”
“No … no, I—”
“Yes, you bloody were, you dirty sod.”
“I was thinking about you in the throes of passion and how you—”
“Don’t try to dress it up to make it sound poetic, my darling—you were thinking about watching while another man fucked me, or I was succumbing to some Sapphic love?”
My face was beaming. I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I was thinking back to the time when we talked about going to one of those clubs … you know, where the couples arrive together and go their separate ways for a while.”
“Swingers clubs—but now, I suspect you might not go off with somebody, Brad. I’m wondering if you’d prefer to stay nearby to watch.” She gave me a knowing smile and her eyes were wide.
“That conversation was a long time ago.”
Helen nodded slowly. “The original chat might have been, but recently, one night after a few drinks you reminded me.”
Shit. “I reminded you about what?” I tried to laugh it off, but it didn’t work.
“About two weeks ago, we’d been out for a meal in town, and when we got home, we had a bedtime drink. The general gist of the conversation was about how we’ve lived happily without children and how we’ve managed to avoid either of us having an affair.”
“Well, if that was the general topic I must have agreed with you.”
“Oh you did, my love. Not long before you dozed off on the sofa, you confessed that you wouldn’t mind me being with somebody else as long as you could see me enjoying myself.”
I laughed. “You’re kidding me—I wouldn’t say something like that—”
“Maybe not normally, but I can assure you my red-faced lover that you definitely did.” She gave me that smile again that assured me she had me over a barrel. “Would you like to know exactly what you said?” Unfortunately, she had a great memory, so this was not good.
“Okay, I’m embarrassed already.” I was hoping the subject would be over soon. “I can’t remember much after getting home that night.”
“You said, ‘Helen, my love, as long as the other person satisfied you, I’d be happy to watch’, and then your eyes flickered and you dozed off.”
“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean it—it was the drink talking.”
“Oh, no—I’m not accepting that old worn-out excuse. I know you meant it.”
“Go on.” I didn’t want to, but I knew I’d be hearing it anyway.
“You were sitting back on the sofa with your legs wide apart. As you confessed about your desire to watch me being licked, or fucked, you had one hand on the bulge in the front of your jeans.”
“Oh, Helen, I—”
She laughed. “It’s okay my love. We’ll be safe until I find a woman who swings both ways, or a man with a big cock to impress me.” Helen finished her coffee, stood and went to gather her things before going to work.
I went along the hallway to kiss her goodbye. “It sounds like I’ll have to concentrate more when I’m drinking—or stop drinking.”
We kissed briefly, and Helen laughed. “Before I go, there was one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“If the day ever comes when I find myself with a woman or another guy, what would you want in return?”
I laughed, and again it didn’t sound right. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, obviously, I’d be allowing somebody else to play with my pussy, so apart from watching, what would you like to be allowed to do?”
I laughed. “If I saw you being pleasured by somebody else, I’d do whatever you wanted.” I laughed and kissed her again. “Get out of here, and drive safely.”
“Thank you. Now, I’ve got something to think about in my hotel room.” She winked and left.
I stood at the end of the driveway and waved as Helen drove off to Scotland for a few days. I was aroused thanks to our conversation. I went upstairs to indulge myself in a special treat which I occasionally enjoyed when alone.
*
Wednesday 9th June
My wife had only been gone for two days, but I kept myself busy. It was great working from home, and as a freelance slogan and logo designer, I had a fun job. I was ahead of schedule on my workload and figured an hour in our big back garden with a fruit juice was the way to go.
If I hadn’t been in the kitchen, I wouldn’t have seen the young window cleaner. He came along the narrow footpath which ran along the back end of the rear gardens. I watched as he disappeared behind the high hedgerow, and then I dashed upstairs to watch where he went. He appeared for a moment about fifty yards away, and then he glanced over his shoulder and turned toward our nearest neighbour’s house and disappeared. At such a distance I couldn’t see if she had let him in, or he’d gone past.
The lad I’d seen was our window cleaner. He was in his early twenties, had shoulder-length blond hair and an athletic build. His T-shirts and shorts were always clean, but my gaze had been drawn to his legs one day when he was on his ladder. He had good legs for a guy, but they looked smooth—shaved.
“I wonder what’s going on with you.” I organised my drink and ice cubes before going outside. I was already in a T-shirt and shorts myself because it was such a pleasant morning.
Half an hour passed and curiosity got the better of me. I left my glass on the garden table, stood, and walked along the narrow pathway. I knew I’d be out of sight for the first thirty or forty yards thanks to the hedgerow. When I got close, I got a glimpse through the big conservatory to what would be our neighbour’s dining room. I was sure I saw a young woman. It wasn’t the auburn-haired woman who lived there—this one had blonde hair, and she wasn’t wearing much.
I did as the young man had done a while before, glancing over my shoulder before I left the footpath, and stepped over the low fence to get a better look. The blonde girl looked beautiful, was dressed in a purple bra and panties with white hold-up stockings and black high-heels. I could see big hoop earrings and on her wrists were gold bangles. She walked around the room a couple of times, oblivious to me watching, and bent over a couple of times performing seductive poses. My attention was focussed entirely on her.
“Hello,” a soft female voice said beside me.
“Oh my God—I’m sorry.” Now, what? “I’m Brad … I’m from next door.”
“Hello, Brad.” The beauty held out a slender hand to take mine. “I’m Natasha, and now, how can I help you?” She smiled. There was a camera in her other hand.
I was lost for a moment and took in the sight of this lovely woman who was slightly taller than me, standing there in a tight white blouse and a short red skirt which flared out at the hips. Her shapely legs were bare, and she wore black heels. She looked stunning close-up and had what I thought were Mediterranean looks—long dark hair, brown eyes and a light tan.
“Brad, you seem a little lost for words—why don’t you join us?”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Oh, I insist, Brad—in you go. I’d hate to be telling your wife, or Karl that I finally got a close-up picture of you looking in my windows, but then you ran away. You obviously can’t see enough from your house.” She smiled, and extended an arm, indicating the door of the conservatory. “After you.”
“Who is Karl?”
She ignored the question and indicated the door again.
Oh, shit. I went inside and heard the door close behind me. “Where—”
“Go straight into the lounge, and we’ll get the introductions out of the way, and if you behave, I’ll let you have a cold drink.”
I went into the lounge, and the young woman in the purple lingerie was standing, smiling at me.
“Hello.” I tried unsuccessfully to avert my gaze, and then a hand was offered. The fingernails were bright red. As I took the soft hand, I heard the bangles jingle on her wrist. “I’m Brad from next door—I’m sorry I was—”
“Calm down, please, Brad.” The voice was soft, but there was something familiar about it. “You don’t recognise me, do you?” She grinned, showing lovely white teeth, contrasting against the glossy red lipstick.
***