Janet Tompkiss loved quiet, and she liked to be quiet. She moved around the house and garden almost silently; not with any sinister mien, but with a soft and gentle grace. Peter, her husband, sometimes called her his ‘Lady Goldberry’. She liked that, and in the same terms of loving affection she referred to him as ‘Bombadil’. It matched his good humour, and the fact that he clumped around the place. She thrilled to the sound of his moving around and the myriad of practical things he was always engaged in. Such was the quiet of her footstep that she appeared to glide and Peter was quite used to her suddenly being beside him.
The vision of her seeming to float on a cushion of air was made more real by the long floor length dresses and skirts she was in the habit of wearing. They were both aged 40, and had been married for ten years and were still deeply in love. Their one mist of sadness was that they had no children, but this was also a deliberate decision. Whilst all tests proved them both to be free – ‘Huntington’s Chorea’ was in both family lines.
Peter would spend hours in his office at home reviewing the corporate strategy documents of medium sized companies, and offering critical comment and sometimes alternative approaches. Directors listened to Peter; three of his clients had added £50 million plus to their turnover as a result of his work. He applied the principles of ‘appreciative enquiry’ and analytical priority testing and, when he took on a new client, would inhabit their offices for a week. But most of his time he could work from home, and he kept the work load down to a maximum of four days per week. His fee structure assured their comfort, and Janet enjoyed her craft and art work, and keeping house without a care in her quiet world.
Occasionally they would ‘party’ with friends and Janet would be as lively, bubbly and noisy as the best of them. It was when they made love that Janet achieved a high decibel output. It might have landed them in court, if they lived in a semi-detached house, but 22 Constable Crescent was far from that.
The rear elevations of houses on the crescent faced south, and backed onto those of Gainsborough Crescent, which ran in a concentric curve around them. They looked down the slope of Fenby Wold onto their rear neighbour’s property. Whereas the gardens of Constable Crescent fanned into a wide wedge shape, those of their southern neighbours tapered, soJanet and Peter shared a boundary with three gardens.
One hot June afternoon, as the sun came round to glare down on their bedroom window, Janet set aside her spinning. She went upstairs to close their bedroom curtains and so stop the room overheating. As she drew them to a close she paused to look into the gardens behind them. On a sundeck behind the house of their centre neighbour, a woman was sunbathing on a large lounger and Janet was drawn to the image.
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Carolyn worshipped the sun. When Mrs Kovac finished the cleaning in the morning, and she had planned dinner for herself and her partner Boswell, she would cover herself in factor fifteen, put on her bikini and step onto the sundeck.
Carolyn was a tall brunette with quite broad shoulders and hips. Her black bikini emphasized the curve of her waist, and her 40D bust. It was also more likely to be seen on the beaches of Broadstairs rather than the Algarve. The bottom was full, not quite Brigitte Jones, and the top was not likely to be called provocative.
She lay for long periods in the sun, moving her body to tan all over, but the bikini was never adjusted to expose any more flesh. She would go into the house for a cool glass of cordial frequently, and to top up her sun cream.
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Janet couldn’t settle back to her spinning and after twenty minutes gave up. She decided to make some green tea for herself and Peter. On her way through to the kitchen she paused, then turned and went upstairs to the bedroom. There was the sunbather again; this time lying on her tummy with legs apart and arms outstretched. She found the voyeur experience seductive. She stood back in the room and knew that the sun beating on the glass would make it difficult for her to be observed. With a wicked thrill she fetched Peter’s binoculars to examine the prone figure more closely. She was intrigued. Most sunbathers would unfasten the strap to tan the back – but not this lady, even the straps were still on her shoulders. Janet scanned the neighbouring gardens but there was no sign of anyone and so she returned to the mission to make a pot of tea.
“Ho! Bombadil,” she said cheerily to Peter as she walked into his study carrying a mug of green tea, “how are you getting on?”
“My lady Goldberry, I was just thinking of you and thinking that I have had enough for today. It’s too beautiful a day to be sat here. What have you been doing? The spinning wheel went silent a while ago.”
“You got me banged to rights Chief Inspector, I’d better come clean,” replied Janet, setting his mug down. She stood very close to his right shoulder and began running her hands through his hair.
“I’ve been playing voyeur. The woman in the house behind us on Gainsborough is sunbathing,” she said, as Peter’s right hand rubbed her bottom through the flimsy cotton fabric. He swivelled the chair round and looked at his wife in surprise.
“You’ve been doing what? Is she topless?” he asked. He lifted up the hem of her dress to find, as he expected, that she was not wearing anything underneath. Pulling her closer to him he trailed his fingers through the hairs around her pussy lips while beginning to explore her bum, with fingers on a mission to find her arsehole. They were starting a routine that usually precipitated an urgent bout of sex.
Janet gasped, as Peter’s fingers pressed around her clitoris, but managed to retain some focus. “No, but there’s something fascinating about her. In fact her bikini is almost 1950s, but there is something decidedly sensual about her. I’ve got your binoculars up there, come and see.”
Peter was thrilled. He could hardly believe that his wife was inviting him to stare at this stranger. He stood up and went to the corner of the room and picked up his spotting scope. “We’ll see how sensual she is through a 20/60 zoom,” he said.
Janet giggled and picking up the hem of her dress skipped off toward the stairs with Peter close behind. She hoped the woman would still be there.
“Yes, there she is!” squealed Janet.
Peter took a quick look through the binoculars and grinned. “Wow, I see what you mean. I’ll get the scope set up.”
A minute later they had the telescope in place and focused. The binoculars were on another tripod, and they could watch at leisure.
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Carolyn heard the clock chime from inside the house and knew it was time to go in.
Enough sun for the moment, and ‘Bos’ would be home very shortly. She stood up and stretched, and went through a warm down routine, oblivious to the effect she was having a few hundred feet away. Then she strolled through patio doors into her lounge.
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“Fuck! That was sooo sexy,” said Janet.
They continued to watch in the hope of further treats; the act of secret watching and anticipation being as exciting as seeing.
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Carolyn checked the clock once more – it was a quarter to four and Bos had said he would be home exactly at four. He had given other instructions which she now followed. By the front door she placed a chilled glass of water, in case he needed to quench a thirst when he came in. From the fridge she took a bottle Sauvignon Blanc, and returned to the lounge and placed it with two glasses on a low coffee table. Then she stood facing the door, her feet slightly apart and her hands clasped behind her back.
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“Two glasses – she’s waiting for someone. She hasn’t changed,” said Janet in a husky voice. In Peter’s study his carriage clock chimed. Janet, looking intently through the scope, noticed the woman’s body tense. “He, or she, has arrived,” she whispered.
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Carolyn heard the key turning in the front door. Her body stiffened as she fought the urge to run to him. That would be disobedience, and might invite punishment. She wanted his homecoming to be as perfect as he had planned. She heard the glass of water being put down, and as the door to the lounge began to swing open, she lowered her gaze.
“Hello Pet. Thank you for the glass of water by the door, it was most kind. How are you my sweet?”
“I am so excited you have come home Boswell. I hope your trip was successful? Is there anything I can get for you?”
“I am Bos today Pet, and we are going to have some fun. Would you like that my darling?”
Carolyn nodded her head with enthusiasm, a movement noted by the watchers though not understood, as the new arrival remained out of their sight. Carolyn remained standing where she was.
“I see chilled wine my darling. Please pour me a glass and bring it to me.”
Carolyn quickly took the top off the wine and poured a single glass.
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“Stone me! this is a bit weird,” said Peter.
“She’s poured a glass for whoever, but not one for herself, and now she’s back in her place,” responded Janet, revelling in the mystery.
Peter and Janet could not hear the quiet command given by the new arrival, but they could see it obeyed. “Oh fuck!” they said in unison.
They watched as the woman first removed her top. She reached behind her and unclipped the fastening but held the cups in place for a moment. Once the straps were off the shoulders the top was cast aside. The woman cupped her breasts in her hands for a few moments massaging the flesh and they could see that she tweaked her nipples. Neither watcher breathed, as they stood in fervent prayer that the rest of the outfit would follow.
It did. Slowly the woman eased the bottoms down, wriggling her hips to ease the removal. She turned to present her bottom to her lover, and bent right down to slip the pants free of her feet. Janet heard Peter’s trousers hit the floor too. In one swift motion her dress was off, and she too was naked. She glanced over to her husband, and was pleased to see his cock coming nicely to attention.
“That is stunning,” said Peter.
“The tan lines are dazzling,” said Janet. “It’s as if we watching something doubly wicked and forbidden. I don’t know if I have ever seen anything as erotic.”
“Oh, yeesss!” growled Peter, as the woman moved in response to the very command they had both been trying to send by thought waves. She raised her arms above her head and slowly turned her body round and round. They had the perfect view of the woman’s lily white tits and arse, framed by the deeply tanned skin. Now they understood why the sunbather had kept the costume on all the while.
“Oh my God, I don’t fucking believe it,” gasped Janet. The woman had moved and was now down on her knees, but only half now in line of sight. It was, however, quite obvious by the movements of what bit of her body they could see, just what she was doing.
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“That’s it my Pet, suck me. It’s been a very tense trip. Help me to relax. Yes, take me deep into your throat. Hold my balls, they are so full of spunk waiting to fill your mouth. Ahhhh! A refreshing glass of wine and Pet sucking my cock; what better way to relax? Tell me what you would like Pet. What would really turn you on?”
Bos pulled her head back gently so she was able to speak.
“I want to suck your cock until you shoot your spunk into my mouth. I want to show it to you, and let some dribble down my chin and onto my tits for you to see. Then I will swallow it all for you. Please let me do that Bos.”
“I think we can do better than that Pet. You have been so very good, and this is a wonderful welcome home. You may rub your pussy while you suck me, and you are allowed to cum. When your mouth is full, show it to me, and I will tell you what to do next.”
She sucked with all the different techniques she knew, and rubbed herself at the same time. It wasn’t long before her body began to shudder with her own climax. For a few moments she found it difficult to carry on sucking his cock, but then returned to it with renewed excitement. She knew it would not be long before she tasted his creamy spunk. Suddenly he stiffened, and she knew he was about to shoot. She slowed her pace and traced circles underneath the tip of his cock.
“Ah! Ah! Ahe ! Aaaaarrrrgh” he gasped as his load shot into his lover’s eager mouth.
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“I think he’s cum,” said Janet, seeing how still the woman’s head now was. “Yes, she’s showing it to him,” she went on, as they watched her sit back and hold her mouth open and upwards.
“Here he is!” shouted Peter as the man finally moved forward enough to come into view. He held his hands out and lifted his lover to her feet, then led her to a dining chair, on which he sat. The watchers could not know that he had ordered its placement before he left the house, five days before. As the man sat he drew the woman’s face down to his own.
Janet shrieked with delight, “She’s snowballing him. Oh! Bombadil, get yourself ready for that. We haven’t done that for a long time.”
“Are you sure it fits in with the image of Goldberry? She’s so pure?”
“Ha! Get with the programme Bombadil. Goldberry just got liberated, and you have got some tasty yuk coming your way.”
