The Noisy Neighbour

"Don't do that."

Angela was watching milk drip from her spoon onto the table with the fascination of a scientist discovering some new event for the first time.

"Yes. Don't do that." Tommy copied.

Sor...ry."

She put the spoon back over the bowl and started rocking in her chair instead.

"When's daddy getting up?"

Same question every Sunday. Tommy jumped in to answer.

"Dinner time. Dad always gets up at dinner time after his last night."

"Then will he come watch me ride my bike?"

"Yes darling. He will." I said.

The truth was he wouldn't unless I forced him. He wasn't that interested in what Angela or Tommy did. He paid lip service to them but wasn't what I'd call a father. They knew it to.

The girl has gone now and Michael was heading back up the path with that relaxed demeanour he always had. I couldn't help but think how nice it would be to be one of those girls one week. Before I married I might easily have been. I hadn't had the best morals and if someone like him had invited me back to his, I would have gone in an instant. Unfortunately I'd mostly met the ones who only offered the back seat of a car. Jim had been one of those. And the first to ask me back a second time. That'd been a relationship to me, and why I was married to him now. Bollocks. Where had all the Michaels been back then?

"He's going to stop soon."

I glance back at Angela.

"Stop what?"

"Being naughty."

I creased my brow somewhat bemused. Tommy? He wasn't doing anything wrong. Or did she mean Michael? With the girls? I started to wonder just what she heard when I didn't get her off to bed quickly enough.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Can we ride our bikes together?" Tommy spoilt my train of questioning.

"Yes. Can we mummy?" Angela asked enthusiastically.

"Only if you stay where I can see you from the window."

Much as it'd been fun listening to him with this and the previous girl I had to address the fact that it was sounds I didn't want Tommy or Angela listening to. No point in mentioning it to Jim. He'd just say I was overreacting. I'd have to deal with it myself.

Chapter Four

It was another week and another girl screaming the house down before I got my chance. Jim was on a training course and I dropped the kids with my mum for an hour.

I must admit I wanted to make a good impression and with the hot weather holding I chose a short summer dress and shoes with a slight heel. It wouldn't hurt for me to look good. We'd only exchanged pleasantries in passing but I didn't want him to think of me as just a frumpy mother. Okay, I couldn't compete with his train of willing young girls, but I couldn't deny I would get a thrill if his eyes searched out a little bare flesh. A little thigh above the knee of the top of my tits.

I felt apprehensive as I knocked. Suddenly a little self conscious that maybe I was trying too hard with all this leg on show.

My God. He was tall. The height of the step only made it worse. I craned my neck to look up to him feeling like the naughty little girl.

"Hi.

Madison from next door."

I did a little embarrassed point as if he didn't know our house existed.

"Yes. I know." He smiled liking slightly amused.

"It's good to see you again."

I suddenly realised that from his elevated position he would be able to look right down my top if he chose. I wasn't sure if I was pleased or disappointed when he kept his eyes on my face like the perfect gentleman.

I could feel myself going red. This was more embarrassing than I'd imagined. How the hell did you raise the subject of a strangers sex life? And tell him you could hear everything? Fuck.

"I er... have a problem I need to discuss."

I screwed my face as I spoke trying to look unthreatening.

"Sure.

Come in."

I hadn't expected that but it put off the moment a little longer and it would feel good to be in his company a few minutes longer. And perhaps I could raise it a little more gently if I wasn't so rushed.

It was a bachelors house if ever I'd seen one. Minimalist. Black leather sofas, rich wood laminate flooring, TV on the wall and large speakers for whatever he used as a sound system. Streamed from his phone perhaps. A large solid table with high back chairs stood at the far side of the open space nearest the adjourning wall to my house. Then along from there an open kitchen with modern handle less cupboards and onyx worktops. It should have been a mirror image of our own house but at some point it'd been opened up inside with the partition walls removed. Now looking so different to our own more conventional home. It sounded a little echoey. No wonder the noise of his antics travelled so easily.

"Coffee?"

He kept on walking towards a giant coffee machine that dominated a long length of worktop.

"Yes. Thanks."

This was going to be even harder than I thought. And he was being so nice.

The coffee machine was something else. Most people opened a jar of instant but he was tipping fresh coffee beans into a small hopper at the top and I realised this would take a while.

"It takes a few minutes." He confirmed as it began noisily grinding the beans.

"But it's so much better. I hate the powdered stuff."

"Yeah it's not great. But quick and convenient."

"Take a seat."

"Thanks."

I sat on one of the black sofas, sinking into it and I felt my already short dress riding higher. For a moment I regretted choosing it.

"Good coffee is nice. Only get it when I go out though.

More of a tea drinker at home."

His home had the hint of the future that my parents or more probably my grandparents would have envisioned. How old sci-fi programmes thought apartments in the year two thousand should have looked.

"This is nice.

Your house I mean."

"Yes. I like the open plan look. Not original. It was altered at some point. The people before wanted it open for mobility issues apparently."

"Yeah. We have a wall across there." I pointed towards his open kitchen area. And an L shaped living dining area with one of those stupid serving hatches. We never use it though.

I like this.

It's very... you. A single man's house."

"Thanks."

He smiled at me in such a disarming way. Christ this was going to be a difficult conversation.

"I like it. And I like it's era. Big lover of the nineteen seventies style. Hence the lava lamp.

Anything slightly futurist and kitsch."

I glanced in the direction he was indicating to see the distinctive rocket shape of an old glass and chrome lamp filled with oils. I'd only seen pictures of them. Switched on, the oils would heat and cool as they rose and sunk creating a distinctive effect that epitomised a era from before either of us were born.

There were other aspects that echoed the period now that I looked. Bright geometric patterned curtains. Colourful bar stools at his breakfast bar, and the sideboard. My Nan had had one not dissimilar. G-Plan or Schreiber, I couldn't remember which. But the teak colouring was distinctive.

"Funny. We've spent so much time trying to modernise and you've embraced the period and managed to look up to date. It works well."

"As I said, I can't take credit for the layout. That work was done long before I moved in. Have you never been in here before? With the previous neighbours?"

He leant back against the worktop with his arms folded and I found it hard not to look at his crotch. He was hot.

"No. The old couple before kept themselves to themselves. Never spoke more than a hello in the ten years we've been here."

"That's sad. I think neighbours should get to know one another. You never know when you might be able to help each other out with any... needs." He shrugged.

Oh I had fucking needs alright. I blushed.

I was glad when he turned to fetch milk from the fridge. Taking the opportunity to study the line of his arse and muscular thighs. I really wished he'd help me out.

The machine gurgled and whooshed as it finally filled two mugs and frothed the milk.

"So what is it I can help you with? I hope I haven't done anything unneighbourly."

"Heavens no."

Oh shit. How was I going to say this. I brushed the hair back from my face, flushing again. I felt a bit like the naughty school girl in the headmasters office.

"Well."

I swallowed nervously.

"You need to remember I have children."

"I've seen them. A boy and Angela.

"Tommy. The boy's Tommy."

"They look lovely. A credit to you."

"Thank you.

But they're young and impressionable..."

He just stood there watching and waiting. Looking like sex on legs. No wonder he had a different girl each week.

"It's just that... The walls are quite thin in these houses."

"Too much noise?" He said it so matter of factly.

"Yeah.

Sort of."

I bit my lower lip as I still couldn't see that he was picking up my point fully.

"The wrong sort of noise."

He held my gaze. Damn it. He wasn't making it easy. Or was he teasing me. I wasn't sure any more.

"Friday nights usually."

Now he grinned.

"Sorry.

I hadn't realised."

I looked to the floor wishing a hole would open up and swallow me.

"I'm a little... energetic. I forget how much noise...

And the girls... well, they get over excited sometimes. You know how it is."

Not any more I didn't.

"It's just that if you could move..."

I glanced to the where the sofas were, at the farthest point they could be from the party wall. Just where did he do it? Standing up? Against the wall? I felt a rush of excitement I didn't want, subconsciously squeezing my legs tightly together I looked away to hide my embarrassment.

"Maybe away from the walls.

And upstairs.

I think your bed is on our wall."

"Yes. It is.

Sorry. I can fix that easily.

Do you take sugar?"

"Just one please."

I wish I'd said no to the coffee. Just said what I needed to say on the doorstep and run. Now I had to face him and make pleasantries. I knew I was red in the face. It didn't help that he was so damn hot. I regretted my choice of the dress. I felt like I'd put myself on display. I went to stand up, overcome by a sudden desire to escape.

"Stay there.

I'll bring it over."

Trapped by the sinking sofa, I did as he said, moving from just perching on the edge of a sofa that already wanted to swallow me to sitting back, only to find myself sinking deeper. My dress was pulled even higher up my legs. I tried to pull it down but it was having none of it and now he had a good view of my bare thighs all the way up. I kept my knees tightly closed as it would be impossible for him not to see my panties.

"Here."

I took the mug with a smile grateful to have something occupying my hands.

"Thank you."

"Yeah. I'm sorry if I've made it awkward for you with the kids. I didn't think, but it's easily remedied.

I've been... lucky in love as they say recently. Having a settled place of my own at last I've taken advantage a bit.

And some of the girls get a little excitable."

He shrugged as if he didn't understand why. I did.

"Sorry."

Phew. That went easier than I'd expected. I felt more comfortable.

"I couldn't help but notice, you do seem to have a long string of them.

What's so special about you anyway?"

Shit. Had I just said that out loud? I coloured up, putting my hand up to cover my mouth in shock of what had come out of it.

"I don't know really.

You wanna help me find out?"

He smirked at me as if it was a joke. But somewhere in there was a serious question. I suddenly felt as though I was being tested. And I protested just a little too quickly.

"Wha... what? No. I'm married.

I just asked..."

I could feel my cheeks burning. Worse. I could feel my panties, panties he could easily see, soaking with my juice. Oh fuck. I wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else.

"Well you know what they say about us black guys."

Now he was laughing at me.

"Ha. You love yourself a bit don't you." I retorted.

"I think it's the girls that love me. I'm just lucky. Making the most of it before I get too old or feel the need to settle down."

"No one on the horizon for..." I remembered the never ending stream of fresh girls that had passed through here since he'd moved in.

"No. I guess not. Stupid question."

He was studying me now. Sunk in the sofa while he perched on the solid wide arm of another left me feeling like the fly trapped in his web. He was leant forward holding his mug with his elbows balanced on his knees. Knees wide apart so I struggled not to look at his crotch. I couldn't help it. My eyes flicked there. His crotch was bulging.

Look somewhere else Maddy, look somewhere else. Fuck it. He's looking at my legs. I suddenly understood how that fly felt knowing it would be eaten alive.

"We're both adults here. I don't mind talking about it.

I like sex." He said.

"That moment two people connect at a deep meaningful level.

It makes us feel alive don't you think?

His eyes bore into me.

"It's... nice." I blushed profusely now. And I knew he was doing it on purpose.

"Ha.

Nice is what you say when you're married. That's not what you would have said when you was single now is it?"

I laughed, strangely feeling a little more comfortable again.

"No. Not back then. I'd have had a few more choice terms. None of which I want my kids to hear either."

I remembered some of them with a little sadness. Gagging for it was one I'd used a lot. Still did privately. And fucking like rabbits had been another favourite. I loved the word 'fuck'. It made me horny just thinking about it.

Then I let my sadness show.

"I forget what it's like."

I looked down at my coffee knowing he was studying me. Probably thinking how pathetic I was.

"Married for so long, two kids. Must be difficult to capture that excitement of the first years."

I didn't respond. He was too close to the truth.

"What's it like? Same man, same position, same time every week? A quickie snatched between hubby coming home and the kids waking up?"

I couldn't believe he was so easily asking me about my sex life. Or how accurate in his assessment he was.

"Yeah. Alright. It is a bit like that. Doesn't mean we don't love each other."

I laughed, trying to hide my shock and the fact that I suddenly wanted to have this conversation. I wanted him to know I wasn't getting any.

"I never said you didn't. But you're still young and pretty. You should still have excitement in your life.

Imagine a night with someone like me. Imagine capturing your carefree youth all over again.

What would you risk for that?"

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. Had he just suggested... No. don't be silly. He was probably speaking figuratively.

"I'm too old for you."

"You're what. Thirty two, thirty three?"

"Thirty seven."

"So ten years older. That's nothing."

"I'm flattered. But I'd feel like a cradle snatcher with someone that much younger."

"What? A successful man like me? Hardly a boy am I."

I felt my eyes lingering on his hands. Large well shaped hands. I wondered how many girls they had caressed. No he wasn't a boy. He was all man.

"No. You're not."

I think I was leering.

I took a breath and pulled my eyes away.

"I make do with what I have."

That was a lie. Jim wasn't enough. I would give anything for a night with someone like Michael if I was honest with myself. Just once.

"Why don't you let me bring a little excitement to you."

I stared opened mouthed at his suggestion. But deep in the pit of my stomach butterflies took flight at the mere suggestion of it.

"No." It didn't come out as convincing as it should have done.

"Come on. It's why you're here isn't it? Dressed like that."

"You always come on to women like this?"

Every part of my head screamed for me to get up and leave.

"Silly not to ask. You'd be surprised how many just say yes."

Evidence over the few months he'd been here suggested a lot.

"You really do fancy yourself."

There was anger in my voice at his assertion. In the back of my mind a tiny voice was shouting at me, telling me he was right. I had chosen this dress purposefully to look good. It showed my legs. More than I'd intended on this sofa. And I could see him looking with less and less discretion.

His eyes were higher up now, where the dress pulled tight over my tits so that he could see their curve and size. I tingled all over with a feeling that'd become alien to me. I remembered it from the nightclubs of my teens. That feeling when a good looking boy had been watching me. That overwhelming horny feeling that left goosebumps on my arms.

In that instant I understood myself. My motivation. I hadn't come to complain about the noise. That had just been an excuse. I'd come here hoping to get fucked and here he was offering. What had I done?

Finally I struggled out of the sofa and stood up, intent on leaving while I was still thinking straight.

"I should go."

To my shock he grabbed me by the wrist and I was spun round almost falling except his powerful arms held me.

"No. Please."

I struggled against him suddenly frightened of what I'd gotten myself into. Lips closed on mine and I stared into dark pupils in shock as they held my gaze, challenging me.

"Mmmh."

A final protest and without thinking about it I relaxed, hypnotised by his eyes and I returned the embrace. My mouth opened at the insistence of his probing tongue and it found my own. In a moment I'd gone from housewife and mother to wanton slut letting this stud kiss me as his hands explored my body.

For what seemed like an eternity I let him invade my mouth and caress my lips with his own. Large hands glided over my hips, stroked my bare arms, and brushed over hard nipples, pushing at the thin material separating us.

Jim and the kids were forgotten as my body responded. Desire and lust rising inside me like it hadn't since those youthful drunken nights leaving the clubs with a string of boyfriends to drive into dark woods and hidden lay-bys to be fucked like a slut.

To say I was any different to Michael would be a lie. I had a history. It's just that it was history to me, whereas it was his present. And I was insanely jealous of him for that.

"Have we finished with the pretence now?"

He asked softly.

"You want me to show you why the girls like me so much?"

I hunted my thoughts for an excuse, any reason to leave but my mind betrayed me just as surely as my body. I knew I was wet. So did he. He couldn't have missed it.

I hunted for the kind of bravery I'd had with my first encounter all those years ago. And I remembered the words I'd used the first time I'd wanted to see a boys cock.

"Show me."

It was little more than a whisper. But I wanted to see his cock. Desperately wanted to see it.

"I want to see."

I hardly believed the words leaving my mouth, spoken as though by someone else. A young girl almost forgotten from so many years ago.

Michael obliged in silence. The rattle of his belt unbuckling echoed in my ears as if teasing me. Then the buzz of his fly zip. His trousers dropped and I saw his legs. Powerful, muscular as if sculptured by some Ancient Greek artist. And there, just a few feet from my face, a monster sat concealed in black briefs below his tee shirt. My eyes were wide with anticipation and I felt my breath shudder as it passed over slightly parted lips.

It seemed as though time had slowed when he took hold of the waist band either side of his hips and pulled the garment down, bending forward to obscure my view as he unhooked the garments from his feet. Then he straightened.

"Oh fuck." I muttered.

Christ it was big. Long, straight and very black. He was waxed clean of body hair and circumcised, and his smooth crown gleamed in the light. He looked like a dancer, a stripper at a wild hen night.