Windows Bk. 01 Ch. 03

"Yes darling. Do it....do it like you did with Jenny."

He pushes my head down and I start sucking.

"That's it babe, you're my wife, you should have done this ages ago," he says, and grunts.

His hands hold my head tight and I feel his cum splatter in my mouth. My finger flicks over my clit and I feel myself come too.

I swallow, for the first time ever I swallow. I've never completed a blow job before, I've always ended up jerking his cock into tissues the very few times I have tried to suck him. I come up from under the sheets and slip out of bed. I have to get rid of the salty taste in my mouth.

I brush my teeth and lean into the mirror. I look at my mouth, knowing a few minutes ago I had his cock and his cum in there. Have I joined a new club now? Will people be able to tell? I guess the truth is people just assume a woman sucks her husband off all the time.

I go past the landing and look down to our new shed under the moonlight. It brings back thoughts of those builders, and how they leered at me like men do. Tim the tall big built guy pulled me against him. I could smell his sweat. I saw Hank watch Tim's hand when it went round my waist. It was like Hank was expecting something more to happen. It scared me a little, but I felt this odd feeling come over me, not a yearning, not anything like that but a strange feeling that I was vulnerable without my husband at home, and these three strangers leering at me from time to time, made it quite obvious what they were thinking.

I touch my side where Tim's big hand touched me. What if I hadn't pulled out of his grasp, what if I had stayed there? He might well have let go, but what if he didn't? I try squeezing my fingers on my side like he did, but it isn't the same. His fingers felt like there was a danger just waiting to be unleashed. I watched George lick his lips through his old shaggy beard while he stared at my legs.

Maybe if I had stayed in Tim's arm, he would have tried something, maybe a kiss, maybe sliding his hand round on my backside. Maybe Hank would have come down off the ladder, and George would have stood up and walked forward with a grin on his face. Tim would kiss me, hard, as I tried to get away from him. The other two would laugh, at my futile attempts to get away. I'd be pushed to my knees; Tim's cock would be pointing at my mouth. The others would hold me, and Tim would push his cock towards my mouth, with a big fat evil grin on his face.

"Sylvie what are you doing?"

"Be there in a minute."

Just like my husband has stopped me sucking Tim's cock in my fantasy, I stopped Tim from cuddling me, by moving out of his grasp when they put the shed up. I go back in the bathroom and rinse my fingers.

I slip into bed and cuddle Sean, wondering if the men talked about me, or just liked to look, keeping their thoughts to themselves.

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Yeah," he mumbles, in that tone that says sleep is only seconds away.

"Sean, I didn't mind doing it, it wasn't as bad as I thought."

"That's good babe," he mumbles.

Tim flashes back in my head, I don't think I could suck him or let him fuck me ever for real, but maybe Adam, Dawn's husband.

"You know what you said about us swapping with just Oscar and Jenny, would you like to? Sean, I just worry about Jenny being better than me. Dawn told me Jenny has had a couple of affairs. Dawn reckons Jenny gets hooked on guys, and does it behind Oscar's back.......Sean?"

He snores; obviously he didn't hear what I said, and perhaps it is best.

The first window

Why do I spend half my time in my bedroom lately my mum asked? I want to tell my mum I'm in love with Sylvia, because I'm sure that's what this craving is all about. My mum would laugh at that answer, so I tell her I've got my model planes to build. I like to build the fighters and bombers from the Second World War; I do it in the window, so I can watch for Sylvia's legs, and hear her heels on the pavement.

It's been a week since I went round to put the stuff back in her shed, and okay I feel the disappointment still because it had been done. Every time I go past her house I look secretively at the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. The need to see her again is growing to a new high. I need a reason to go round there. I need a reason to be with her, just for a while.

Sylvia has new curtains which shut properly now in her living room window. Last night under the cover of darkness, I went round and walked up her path. The light was on and the curtains drawn. I could hear her telly above the beating of my heart loudly in my ears. It's always like that when I do something risky. I just stood there between her window and the large bush, which is now covered in big leaves and blocks off anyone seeing me from the road.

I heard her cough, even that sounded sexy. I didn't hear him in there, just Sylvia. I spent 10 minutes there, and thought about knocking on her door, and then running and hiding behind a parked car. I wanted to see her that much that I lifted the knocker, but I heard voices coming down the road, so I hid back behind the bush. It was then that I heard the rain landing on the leaves. It got heavier so I left. I walked up the road with that weird smell of rain on dusty tarmac running up my nose. It hasn't rained for nearly three weeks, but it poured down.

"Steve, can you do something for me?"

I grumble to myself.

"I want you to pop some invites through a few doors.

This is my chance to see Sylvia. It is like there is a God after all.

I flick through the envelopes six in all. I go through them again.

"There isn't one for Mrs Smith," I call into the kitchen.

"Yes I know," mum calls back, above the scraping of spuds she's doing.

"Have you fallen out?"

"No dear," she replies, and then the scraping stops, "why do you ask that?"

Oh shit, she's in detective Columbo mode.

"It's just........well she hasn't been here lately."

"She was here this morning while you were in town, and anyway the invites aren't from me, they are from Jenny, she asked me to drop them through the doors round this way. Anything else you want to know?"

"No," I mumble, to myself more than to my mum.

"Oh talking of Sylvia that reminds me, could you ask her if I can borrow the big cake tin she said she had, and bring it back with you?"

I fist pump the air.

I pop the invites through the doors; my mind is focused on seeing Sylvia again. I go to knock on her door, but it swings open, and there stands Mr Smith.

"Um mum said your wife, Mrs Smith, had a large cake tin. I mean mum wants to borrow it."

"Okay you had better go through, she's out the back getting the washing in," he looks at his watch and then back at me, "darts tonight, down the club."

I'm stood in her hallway, there's a deathly silence and my already thumping heart goes up a notch. He's gone off to play darts, leaving Sylvia alone. I go to take a step in the living room, but I stop. This feels odd, I'm in Sylvia's house, and she doesn't know!

I take the stairs two at a time. I peep through the landing window looking out the back of the house. She's got her back to me as she un-pegs a sheet from the line. I ask myself if I've gone mad, here I am invited into her house by her husband, and I'm creeping around like a burglar. It really doesn't make any sense, but then again, so what.

I wish I was invisible and I could spend all day with her, without her knowing. For the moment I am invisible, because she doesn't know I'm here.

I watch her bend; she's wearing a mini dress in white and dark blue. The top is white and has a small blue pattern on it, with tight white sleeves with the same pattern. From just under her tits the rest of the dress is dark blue. The skirt part isn't tight, but it isn't flared, it just hangs down tight on her hips, and then widens a little round her thighs. She's wearing tights again; they look like the honey coloured ones I've seen my mum buying. They are a little more colourful than the tan ones, which until you get close, you don't know if she is wearing tights or not.

She picks up the basket and starts heading to the house. It is now I realise I have to make my way silently down the stairs or she'll hear me. I take two steps down, and then see the light change down at the foot of the stairs; she's opened the door from the lounge to the stairs!

I back pedal and go in the spare room, hearing her coming up the stairs. I slide under the bed. I hear her humming a little tune, and then I see her feet come in the room and the bedsprings creak. She must have lowered the basket on the bed. I can see her painted toes through her tights. I could reach out from where I am, and touch them. She fiddles with something on the bed, and I watch not daring to breathe, as her slim ankles flex now and then.

Finally she leaves the room, and I hear her going down the stairs. I crawl out from under the bed and look at the pink cardigan, and three of her husband's shirts, which she has put over the clothes dryer next to the bed. I can now sneak down the stairs and ...........oh shit, I'm already in the house! She isn't going to believe she didn't see me, she isn't going to think I went through dinning room, and into the kitchen the other way, and we somehow missed each other. I go outside gently closing the door. I knock, hoping that her husband will think it too insignificant to tell Sylvia he let me in earlier.

She smiles and I tell her what mum wants. She asks me in and I follow her to the kitchen, watching her swaying hips in the mini dress. She pulls open a cupboard and bends down. She stands up quickly and looks at me. I manage to avert my eyes, staring at the picture on the wall. She possibly knows I saw her white panties under her tights, but she can't be sure. She crouches down this time, and the darker tops of her tights are sticking out an inch or so below the hem of her dress.

She stands up and the dress slips down into place a little. She glances at me, with a questioning look in her eyes.

"Thanks," I mumble, and turn and leave.

I'm wondering if he saw my panties, he was looking at the picture of the two sail boats my husband likes when I turned round. I'd forgotten I had this dress on, but he's just a kid, and according to Dawn, he is a bit of a loner and wrapped up in his own world, but I do wonder about him sometimes.

"The fence needs sorting out the back."

Sean gets into bed and cuddles up behind my back.

"I thought I'd ask that bloke Tim to do it, what do you reckon?"

He kisses my neck as I think about the question. He rolls me over moves between my legs.

"Yeah maybe we should," I answer, "I could ask him if you like?"

"Well if you want to, I thought you said he was a little creepy?"

I think back to the fantasy I had about Tim when I was stood on the landing.

"He is.......but if I asked him I'm sure he would knock something off the price."

"You naughty woman Mrs Smith.....fancy a bit of rough do you?"

"Of course not, I'm just saying that's all. I could phone him, get him to come round, and turn a blind eye to him leering at me. If it saves us some money, then I might even give him a smile."

My husband starts fucking me faster and all of a sudden I can see Tim's face looking down on me. I'm feel an orgasm rolling through my body, as I remember Tim's arm round my waist, in front of his two work mates. My husband is too far gone to notice I'm having an orgasm. I gasp and pant through it, like I do when fake it most of the time for his benefit. He pulls out and staggers drunkenly to the toilet. I roll over on my side trying to get Tim out of my head, but I'm failing. I don't know why it's him in my fantasy; he isn't the least bit likable. I'm sure it's just the situation, the scenario of a rough builder taking me. I don't want him fucking me, I couldn't do that to Sean I couldn't cheat behind his back, but for some reason I'm drawn to flirting with Tim a little.

I phone Tim the next morning. He calls me love and darling, and his sweet, and he'll come round and give me a good price. I put the phone down and my hand is shaking. I close my eyes and picture him. He's around 6 foot 3 or 4, big broad shoulders, and overweight. His neck seems to be the same thickness as his head. He has a pock marked fat face, and he has big hands. His hair is cropped short, and he has a big nose and a scar down his left cheek. His eyes are grey and deep set, and I can't think of anything about him which I find attractive.

I can see that Doreen, who was all over my husband, letting Tim fuck her. I don't think she would turn her nose up at any man who gave her a second look. I look at myself in the full length mirror. White shoes, hazel coloured tights, my red mini dress with the false gold buttons down the front, and my hair clipped up, and red lipstick looks back at me. I'm going to tell Tim I've just come back from town.

I sit on the bed, and suddenly this doesn't see like a good idea. At what point does flirting to get a few quid knocked off a bill become a little desperate. I look at my watch; I've still got an hour before he turns up. I reach behind me to pull my zip down on my dress and the phone rings downstairs.

It's been a couple of days since I was in Sylvia's house without her knowing. I can remember watching her feet as I hid under the bed. Then the way she bent over, and then straightened up, realising I might have seen up her dress. I looked a way, but now I wish I hadn't. Now I want Sylvia to know I saw her panties. I've come to think that maybe she wouldn't say anything, men look at her all the time, and from what I've seen she just ignores it. Men in cars blow their horns at her, and what can she do, and what does she do, she does nothing. She is so serene, and doesn't confront men who whistle at her, or shout at the men in cars, perhaps I could be bolder.

I look out the bedroom window, and that weird odd job man has just turned up outside her house. He sees more of her than I do, it just isn't fair. I go downstairs and for once I wish I wasn't on my own. I get a glass out of the cupboard, close the cupboard door, and there on the side is the cake tin I got from Sylvia. I pull the lid off and it is empty, which I guessed it would be, because my mum took it with her yesterday to the church fete. I smile, I have a reason now to go to Sylvia's, but that Tim bloke is round there. Still I can wait in the alley that runs down the back of our houses, and see when he's finished in the garden with whatever he is doing.

The second window

I hang up the phone and the door knocker goes. I open it and there he is, Tim with that older guy George stood behind him.

"Oh I wasn't expecting you for another hour," I say, worried now that I haven't changed my clothes.

"That's alright my love, we were in the neighbourhood. Your old man in is he?"

"No, he's gone to his mother's."

Shit I shouldn't have brought George with me; still at least I can show off a little.

"We'll go round the back, while you make us a cup of tea."

I walk round the side of the house with George a step behind me. I turn round.

"Now listen to me George, it's obvious she is disappointed because I brought you a long."

"Is it?" he asks, with a furrowed brow.

I raise my eyes to the heavens.

"Why do you think her husband has gone to see his mother? He looks blankly at me, "because she told him to get out of the way. Now that is a bit of a bonus, because she doesn't know one end of a fence from the other. Now I'm going to charge her a little extra, so you just agree with what I say, got it?"

"You're going to rip her off?"

"Well......yes and no, just because we are fucking it doesn't mean I'll give her a discount. Now just be quiet."

We measure up for the fence and she comes out carrying a tray with mugs on.

"Now I reckon I could do it for about £150."

She bulks a little. I watch her look up the length of old the fence.

"Well, that seems a little much."

I chuckle, "Darling, we've measured up and that's a good price. But maybe I can knock a bit off, although we've got a problem at the other end of the garden. Come on I'll show you."

"I've got heels on; they'll sink in the dirty."

He offers me his hand and I take it. I can feel myself blush a little, as we walk up the garden. He grips my hand firmly, and I feel like I did when I thought about his hand round my waist.

"You see that big lump of concrete down there? Well it is going to take a bit of knocking out."

He puts his arm round my shoulder. I want to pull away, but for the moment I make myself keep still.

"But just because it is you, I'll knock £10 off."

His hand slips down off my shoulder and on to my waist. He pulls me slightly towards him, and I feel our hips touch. I want to pull away even more, and I do, but he pulls me back.

"Okay Sweetheart, how about I knock £20 off?"

I force myself to move back against him. I can smell his sweat again, but this time there is a deodorant working trying to hide it. His hand slips round on the small of my back.

"You know I could go a little lower.....I bet you'd like that wouldn't you, my darling?" he mumbles.

I can feel my own sweat now. I know I should stop this, but something in me doesn't want to.

"H, how much lower?" I stutter.

I feel his hand slip slowly round the curve of my bum.

"You let me think for a while....sexy."

The first window

I'm watching Sylvia's legs shake, as he stands next to her with his hand on her backside. His fingers are gripping her ass, and then letting go over and over. Why doesn't she move, she can't like this? She just stands there with her legs shaking, letting that disgusting man touch her, like I want to.

The second window

"Call it £110," he pants in my ear, "or if I get a kiss we'll call it a round 100."

"No I......."

He turns my face to his, and he kisses me full on the lips. His tongue licks across my tightly closed mouth, as I try to get his hand off my head, and the other hand which his gathering my skirt up.

The first window

I can't watch this anymore, I back away from the thick hedge and move back up the over grown alley. Sylvia kissed him just like that. I don't understand why she would let that gross man do it. I throw her cake tin down.

The second window

I pull away, finally. I head towards the house. I glance at George who winks at me, and has a lump in his trousers.

"We'll start next week," Tim calls after me.

I shut the back door and lean against it. I'm panting and a little scared in case he comes to the door. What was I thinking, letting him touch me like that with his big rough hands? I wipe my lips and stare at them in the mirror. He pressed his open mouth on my lips, and then licked them, like he was trying to get my mouth open. I shouldn't have worn this dress, if anything had happened, people would have said it was my fault.

I'll give it a few days and then cancel him, better still I'll get Sean to tell him we can't afford it at the moment. Slowly my trembling stops, and my red face calms down. I breathe a sigh of relief, as I hear his van start up, and then pull away.

The first window

I'm stamping my foot on the cake tin, over and over, until it is dented and buckled, and no use for anything. I stop looking down on it, panting from my exertions. She just stood there letting him cuddle her, for a full minute I reckon. Then he kissed her and she let him for awhile before she moved away. Why would she do that?

I look at what I've done to the cake tin. I don't care about the stupid thing. I kick it under the hedge in the alley. It can rot there for all I care, and those stupid Edwardian women painted on the side will get rained on. It'll rust until all that is left is a brown rusty piece of tin.

I lay in bed next to my sleeping husband. I cuddle him and want him to wake up. I feel his cock through his pyjamas and he stirs a little. I lean over and kiss his lips softly. He rolls over a way from me, still in his sleep. I finger myself trying not to wake my husband. I imagine I'm on my knees giving Sean a blow job. Then he is down between my legs eating my pussy like I saw him do with Jenny. Why will he do it for her and not me! I think of Sean pleasuring me like that, I imagine looking down on his face, he is grinning up at me from between my legs, but now it is not Sean, its Tim!