The New Neighbour Pt. 03

I found a note on the kitchen table from Caroline. It read: 'Thank you so much darling. I am so proud of you. Enjoy breakfast.'

On the table was a bowl, spoon and a box of cornflakes! I even had to fetch the milk myself. How dare she, I thought. I was expecting a hot brunch, but got cereal!

When she eventually returned, Caroline was full of her new friends. I was still mad with her, but was fascinated to discover more about these ladies, so curbed my temper. Besides, my wife looked delectable in her posh outfit. For the first time in ages, I stared at her with lust. I listened attentively for some time, then made a grab for her.

"Peter, don't, please! That's all you ever think about! I don't want my new clothes and hairdo messed up." She shook me off and heading upstairs, shouted back: "and you can sleep in the spare room tonight!"

This had not gone well, to say the least. I made up the bed in the spare room, and to my shame, for the first time in 20 years, masturbated while fantasizing about my wife. Weirdly, her rejection of me made her seem even more desirable.

We met in the kitchen on the following morning. Once again, Caroline was wearing expensive new clothes. A tight-fitting navy suit, with matching kitten heels and sheer, flesh coloured nylons. My cock twitched again as she hugged me and planted a nice kiss on my cheek.

"Sorry I was a bit hard on you last night Peter. I know it was selfish, and you had worked so hard," she said.

"It's OK darling, I guess you were a bit 'hyper' after socializing with new people. I'm sorry I tried it on last night, but you did look quite sexy!" I replied.

"Just quite sexy?!" she laughed, "Anyway, I feel so refreshed. That was the best sleep I've had in ages. I know it's a lot to ask Peter, but would you mind sleeping in the spare room for a while. I promise I'll make it up to you..."

"I suppose so. If I may say so, your beauty sleep seems to have worked!" I winked.

"You old charmer, Peter. What a lovely thing to say!". With that, she finished her tea (nothing to eat) and left for work.

Shortly afterwards, I got a phone-call from Jennifer. "Could you come around, straight away Peter?"

(Remembering her request), I replied "Yes Miss" and dashed over to her front door, ringing the bell.

She opened the door, wearing only high heel satin mules and a skimpy, purple, figure-hugging retro-style slip, with delicious black-lace edging and shoe-string shoulder straps, revealing her thighs and a hint of 'Décolletage'.

"Oh, Peter - I forgot to mention - would you use the side door from now on?"

"What, now, you mean?" I replied.

"Yes, now" she said and closed the front door.

I half thought of stomping back home in anger, but my trouser-brain soon got the better of me and I scuttled around to the side door. There was a sign, saying 'tradesmen and servants' which I'd not noticed before. I knocked and waited. She kept me standing outside for several minutes and had covered herself with an ankle-length purple robe, before eventually admitting me.

Standing in the utility room, she said: "Has Caroline told you about her new diet, Peter?"

"No, to be honest, we haven't had much time together recently" I replied.

She continued: "We've decided to do it together. I want to get down to a size eight and she's aiming for a size 10. Isn't that wonderful?"

"I guess so..." I mumbled.

"It's a specially designed plan - mainly vegan I think you'll appreciate it - you certainly need to lose weight Peter!"

I looked shocked. "What, you mean Caroline is expecting me to eat the same stuff as her?!" I spluttered.

"I know you like her new look Peter. Isn't it nice to have a smart-looking wife again? Yes, you'll have to 'suffer' with her - but, no pain no gain!"

"Yes, I suppose you are right. Thank-you Miss"

"Good boy Peter, I'm sure it'll be worth it. Now, follow me. I need you to take some old clothes into town for charity or recycling".

She led the way upstairs to a large walk-in dressing room, full of wardrobes and mirrors.

"I've run out of hanging space, so I've pulled out some old things I no longer need." She pointed to a large pile of garments on the floor and without waiting for comment, turned on her heel and left the room.

Once again, I was, understandably, feeling 'put-upon' and frankly, humiliated. But here I was, on my own, in a very private part of her home, confronted by a mound of her discarded wardrobe. I didn't hesitate, but began to sift through the chaos. Oh god! Among the skirts, cardigans, trousers and coats were; yes; panties, nylon stockings and bras. I couldn't resist. Checking the landing outside, I returned, partially closed the door and stooped down to sift and savour this treasure-trove of female apparel. I could barely control myself. It was a fetishist's dream. The finest quality silks, softest satins and sheerest nylons. I fondled and sniffed some of the most delicate items for as long as I dared, then began sorting and packing them into the storage boxes provided.

I carried the containers downstairs and loaded them into my car. I shouted goodbye and set off. I could hardly concentrate and took the first opportunity to pull over in a discrete lay-bye, where you won't be surprised, I used some of her used nylons and panties to wank off. Just before spurting my perverted sperm into a particularly sensual pair of sheer white knickers, I remembered Caroline's words: 'I promise I'll make it up to you' and stopped just in time. I was shaking, but carefully hid some of her most personal items in my glove box for another day.