Saturday, 6 March 2021

Choice Tales from the Vale – (008) Just Being Neighbourly

 

When it all began, Leon Watson lived in a detached house in Dulcet Green with his wife of 25 years, Mary.

Although in truth that was stretching a point, it wasn’t so much living, it would perhaps have been more accurately described as an existence.

That was because Leon and Mary lived completely separate lives, they had separate bedrooms and had totally different interests, and different circles of friends, and by that stage they might just as well have been strangers.

In fact, Leon didn’t really know why they stayed together, laziness perhaps.

They had no children, no pets and not even a single friend in common and they only had sex on special occasions which in Leon’s opinion was the only special thing about it.

If they’d had an ounce of common sense between them, they would have divorced long before they reached 25 years, but Mary believed marriage was a lifetime commitment or more precisely a life sentence.

That didn’t mean anything to him, what kept him in the marriage though was that although he had long since stopped loving his wife, he really loved the house.

And what happened just before Easter would lead to something that would make Leon love the house even more.

It was when Leon’s next-door neighbours, The Brown’s moved to Cheltenham, he was something in the foreign office and he was offered a two-year secondment to GCHQ.

The Brown’s decided to rent the house out in the short term and then they would sell it later should the secondment end up becoming a permanent position.

 

So, it was on a warm day in May when the new tenants moved into the house next door.

The house had been rented by two elderly sisters, the Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s, who were retired colonial missionary types returning to Downshire after working for many years in China.

And in addition to the two old biddies, they brought with them, a live-in cook housekeeper who was a dowdy and frumpish looking woman of indeterminate age who by outward appearance could have been anything between 25 and 35 years old with mousy hair and functional spectacles.

Leon noticed them move in as he was working from home, which he did at least 3 days a week, more when he could get away with it, which he was able to do quite often because he was a freelance architect.

So, it was due to his “working from home” that he got to see them move in and the reason he would eventually get to know the frump.

 

In truth although Leon worked from home, he seldom spent more than a couple of hours a day actually working.

This less than productive work ethic enabled him to spend more time doing what he loved to do, reading, listening to music, watching films, and making sure the gardeners did a proper job, in fact pretty much anything that wasn’t actually working.

He always got up early every morning and cracked on with his work early doors and achieved his modest goal by about 11.00, always keeping some in hand that he could do during the evening and therefore avoid having to speak to Mary any more than was necessary.

Finishing his work early also allowed him to make himself useful in a small way to the new neighbours, well to the frump in any case, which in truth mainly involved his sitting in the Brackhampton-Finch’s kitchen drinking the frump’s excellent coffee.

The frump’s real name was Pauline Boyle, and she was an Australian girl who had started working for the Brackhampton-Finch’s when they lived in China.

When they announced their plans to return to England because Pauline was such a good housekeeper and such an excellent cook, they asked her to move with them and even offered to pay her passage to the UK on the proviso that she remained with them for a minimum of two years.

As she had always wanted to travel to England so she accepted because she knew she would never be able to do it otherwise.

 

Leon got on well with Pauline in the short time she had been his neighbour, chatting over the kitchen table drinking her excellent coffee, but not quite as well as he was about too.

The summer was well underway when one day after he had achieved his meagre work target, he walked out into the garden and over the fence he saw Pauline dancing on the patio with a large glass of wine in her hand.

“Are you having a party?” he shouted over the fence on the hot June afternoon.

“Sort of” she replied “come and join me Leon”

“Ok” he said and walked around to the back gate

 

“So, what’s the occasion?” he asked when he reached the patio and she poured him a glass of wine

“The Brackhampton-Finch’s have gone to Canterbury for an ecumenical council meeting” Pauline replied

She had clearly had more than the one glass of wine as she failed quite spectacularly to say ecumenical.

“And they’re clearly not coming back today” Leon said

“No” Pauline said “the day after tomorrow”

It was the first time he had seen Pauline so relaxed, but then he was well aware that an excess of alcohol will do that.

The Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s were very old fashioned, and Pauline had to keep herself covered at all times with no hint of femininity visible or God forbid any hint of sexuality.

But to counteract this Pauline had a unique way of levelling the playing field so to speak which he was to find out about in due course.

 

However, as the sisters were away which was why on that summer’s afternoon, she was wearing a dress which showed off a figure that was hitherto unrecognised, unnoticed, or even hinted at.

By late afternoon, the combination of too much wine and too much sun found the two of them dancing on the patio to the dulcet tones of Barbara Streisand singing “The way we were”

But by the time Neil Diamond began to croon “Love on the rocks” Pauline was nibbling vigorously on his ear.

His immediate reaction was that he should nip it in the bud, he was a married man after all, albeit unhappily, and she was very much the worse for drink.

So, he pulled his ear out of reach of her mouth and occupied it otherwise by kissing it which she reciprocated immediately in a wet slavery drink induced snog.

Leon knew it was wrong and he knew the right thing to do was to stop, but it was a hot day, he was merry, and very, very horny, and as he hadn’t had any kind of sexual encounter with anywhere near that level of passion for more years than he could remember.

So instead of stopping proceedings he started fondling her not insubstantial breasts through the fabric of her dress which made her kissing even more wet and slavery.

“Stop now” he said to himself “while you still can, stop before you pass the point of no return”

But he didn’t listen and then he reached around her back and deftly pulled down the zipper on her dress instead.

In response she disengaged her mouth from his and let the dress fall to the floor to reveal some very unchristian underwear in red satin with black lace trim.

Then she began kissing him again even more fervently and so he immediately tried to undo her bra, but she stopped him abruptly.

“No” she shouted and Leon cursed himself for going too far too quickly.

“Not here” she said and then she took hold of his hand and led him through the French doors into the dining room.

Once inside she reached around her back and unhooked her bra herself and playfully threw it at his face.

“Now you can carry on” she said, and he happily complied

Leon cupped her great white breasts and then pushed her backwards against the Brackhampton-Finch’s mahogany dining table.

He slid his hands up the backs of her thighs until he reached the fleshy cheeks of her buttocks, which he caressed and squeezed before he pulled her knickers off her cheeks and then he seated her on the table so he could completely remove her pants.

And no sooner had he slipped them off her ankles she was dragging his cock from his shorts.

She gave him a few encouraging tugs and then she lay back and let him penetrate her on the expensive mahogany dining table which he did with vigour until her hoarse scream rang out on the balmy June air.

 

After he had sullied her on the Mahogany Dining table, they lay together in the afterglow on one of the Brackhampton-Finch sister’s many Chinese rugs and she told him how, to make up for her drab and dreary exterior she chose to wear very exotic underwear, the sexier or sluttier the better.

She also told him how when an elderly Bishop friend of the sisters was invited for afternoon tea, Pauline served it to his grace wearing stockings, suspenders, and crotch less panties.

That was extraordinary behaviour for someone in a Christian household though as she was not a Christian herself it was not as bad.

They had another glass of wine as the lay on the rug in the dining room until she noticed that life was returning to his flaccid organ.

“Would you like to come to my room and look at my knicker collection?” she suggested “I think your friend does”   

“If he’s interested then count me in” Leon replied

When they stood up, she looked across at the dining table and laughed

“What’s so funny?” he asked

“That’s going to take some polishing” she replied pointing at the sticky patch of their joint contributions that looked like a giant snail trail.

Their next joint contributions were left on Paula’s bed linen.

Which was where he left Paula sleeping when he went home in time to have dinner with his darling wife.

As it turned out he needn’t have bothered because she called to say she was eating out and wouldn’t be back until late.

So he put a frozen dinner in the microwave and had a shower and a shave, then he ate his dinner in front of the TV and was back inside the Brackhampton-Finch’s ten minutes later and back inside Paula ten minutes after that.

 

That hot sensual June afternoon was the first of many sexual encounters between Leon and Pauline either in the Brackhampton-Finch’s house when they were out or at Leon’s when he was working at home and she had her days off.

They discussed at length how to employ a simple signalling system, to indicate their availability but after many and various suggestion they favoured the one where she would hang her scarlet satin knickers in her bedroom window to show that the coast was clear, and she was ready for action.

But in the end, she decided that a text would suffice along the lines of

“I’m horny come and fuck me”

The exact wording varied but that was the gist. 

Paula felt no guilt for her wanton behaviour and Leon felt no guilt for that first day for what they did or any of the subsequent occasions, after all to his way of thinking he was just being neighbourly.

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