I Call Him Mr. Tibbs Ch. 02

"Look ... they've got a man in there living with them, that's what. I saw him leaving their place day before yesterday and saw he return in the evening, the same thing yesterday. It's weird."

"The hell has that got to do with being weird?" she asked him indignantly.

"It's got a lot to do with it because he's black, Misty," he said it triumphantly. "If he were a friend, I'd understand that. But the guy's been staying with them, and that means there's something going on in that house that I ought to get to the bottom about."

"What do you mean 'get to the bottom about'? Since when did anyone make you the neighbourhood Sherriff to care when people do in their homes?"

"Just shut your mouth and leave me alone, Misty!" he snapped at her. "Either do that or just be quiet, would you."

Misty clamped down on her mouth, choked back her words as if she'd just been slapped. She stood there staring at her husband as he returned his attention to peeping out with his telescope. If she'd expected him to apologise she was wrong. Feeling slighted, she turned and returned upstairs to their bedroom. She drew the covers over herself, snuggled with a second pillow between her legs and shut her eyes. She thought she could force herself not to cry, but minutes later she was doing just that.

She was almost falling asleep when the bedroom door came open and in walked her husband. Pretending that she was asleep, she watched him enter the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Her ears captured grunting sounds coming from inside and she was still wondering what he was doing when the toilet flushed then the bathroom door came open and he walked out. He practically strutted towards his side of the bed and plopped himself under the covers. Misty inched further to her side, not wanting to make contact with him. She didn't have to—he came to her. She just about winced when his legs wrapped over hers, followed by his arm. Then came his face breathing on the back of her neck. She pushed his arm away and turned further no her side. He made another pass at her again and this time she didn't hold her words back.

"Forget it," she said over her shoulder. "You're not getting any."

"Come on, babe," he cooed into her ear. "I'm sorry about what I said. You know I didn't mean it." He struggled to pull her over but she relented and pushed away his arm.

"Either you let go of me, or you're going to be sleeping alone, you hear me?" she huffed and pulled the blanket over herself.

Fred remained as he was, clueless. Realising he wasn't going to get anything from her, he muttered under his breath and turned to face his side of the bed. He shut his eyes but ten minutes later he was still awake. Curiosity was burning an imprint in his mind. There was something he just had to do. He knew it was wrong ... but he realised he wasn't going to get any peace of sleep if he didn't do it ... now.

He threw the bed covers off him and swung his legs out of bed. Misty heard him get out of bed but didn't turn around to know whatever he was up to. Fred looked into the closet and took out his pair of trainers' pants and hooded jacket and after wearing them on, he left the room. Misty got up as she heard his feet trundling down the stairs, wondering what nonsense he might be up to now. She rushed to the door and opened it in time to hear her husband turn the lock of their front door downstairs and exit it. She returned to the bedroom and peaked out the window, glad that their bedroom lights were off.

The neighbourhood was dark and quiet with everybody indoors, except for Fred Danbridge scurrying like a roach across the street towards their neighbour's home. Misty watched as he cautiously hid in their garden walk path, observed that he was staring at something happening in the Bundlit's living room. He looked like a burglar and a peeping Tom the way he hid behind their rose brush.

No longer feeling sleepy, Misty trooped out of the bedroom and down the stairs to where her husband's infamous telescope stood. She peaked through its eye and spotted her Fred peeking into the Bunlit's living room windows. She turned the telescope's eye away from him at whatever he was looking at and gave a short expulsion of breath, more like a gasp, at what she saw: there was a black man in her neighbour's home ... and he seemed to be punishing her friend, Hailey.

Nah ... he seemed to be fucking her!

Oh my God! So that was what Fred had been viewing all this while.

Her eye went back to the telescope: she circled it about the living room. There was Hailey, leaning forward against the sofa while the black man was ... fucking her from behind. Misty didn't want to watch anymore but she couldn't help it. Her eye remained glued on the activity taking place across her home, through her neighbour's half-drawn curtains, and she was unaware of when she started feeling her hand over her body. Watching as the black man pulled at Hailey's hair ... it was sending frantic signals across her body and she hardly sensed that her breathing was becoming heavy.

It was with relief that she finally took her eye away from the telescope and scurried back upstairs to the bedroom, closing the door behind her, and jumping on the bed. She drew her night dress over her waist and gasped when her hands felt the wetness between her legs. She was practically gushing with it. She moaned to herself as she caressed her clitoris with her fingers. From her massaging her clit, Misty slipped two fingers into her pussy. Her mind ignited like gasoline fire as her body jerked in response to her fingering quest. She recalled the images of her friend getting fucked in her living room, and the more it did, the more her finger dug in and out of her wet orifice. Her thumb rubbed against her clit; her lips released unstoppable sighs and her head beat either side of her pillow. Her climax came in due time. She lay still on the bed, exhaling her breath in lengthy moans when she thought she heard the door downstairs close. Quickly she drew down her dress and arranged herself in her former position on her side of the bed, turned away from the door a couple of seconds before it came open. She listened to the sound of her husband taking off his clothes and slipped back to his former shorts then coming to join her in the bed. This time he didn't make like bringing himself to her.