Zodiac Girls Ch 09

Now, I am not the world's most tidy man - that I will admit. But that is not to admit to being a slob. It's just that I am a man living alone and therefore I may not dust as much as some and I may leave a lot of magazines lying around that, to the anally retentive, might seem messy!

The house is clean though; no dirty dishes in the sink and the bathrooms are cleaned regularly...not by me though, I have a cleaner in twice a week! A nice old lady named Doris with bad breath and a hairnet but that's all the agency will send me since that incident with the young Philippina girl I used to have!

What can I say about that? It was the middle of the morning. I had been drinking the night before and I had slept in... and I needed to pee and so I went to the bathroom. As you gents know sometimes, when you have to go first thing in the morning, you are accompanied by a stiffie that you are mighty proud of! So I went to the bathroom, opened the door and walked in... and slipped on the bloody towel that was lying there! Now if Maria hadn't have been there cleaning bending over the side of the bath as she was I might have hurt myself!

As it was I fell forward, my arms outstretched to stop myself...but unfortunately the angle of my fall meant I grabbed Maria round the hips, pushing her dress up around her waist where upon she cushioned my fall as I fell on top of her! I admit that to some the image of me naked, my erect cock wedged between Maria's ample thighs as she lay over the side of the bath with her dress up around her waist would seem indicative of something akin to a sexual assault.

Well, would you believe that is what Maria and the agency tried to say! Luckily, I managed to dissuade them from pressing charges when I threatened to bring in the Health and Safety people about safe working practices (e.g. leaving towels lying on the floor!) Plus the bonus I paid Maria later for the 'extra' services that morning seemed to satisfy her and keep her quiet.

But I digress. What I am trying to say that my house is clean but full of too many magazines. The garden though is a different matter! I believe in nature running its course and so I like a garden that is low maintenance...but in my case that means no maintenance! And it was this lack of care of my garden, failing to keep my trees and bushes trimmed that got me involved with another kind of 'bush'...Mrs. Virginia Templeton-Bush to be precise. She was my neighbour; she lived with her husband in the far too perfect house next door. Everything was perfect in their house and garden and both of them seemed to look down their noses at my house, my garden and me.

I think it was the multi-coloured VW camper van in my front garden that triggered off the first dispute between us. I know it is a little rusty and yes, it has no wheels but one day I will work on it and it will be as good as new. Mr. Templeton-Bush (or Mr. and Mrs. TB as I came to call them!) came round to see me the second day after they had moved in and had asked if the van could be towed away as Mrs. Templeton-Bush thought it was an 'eyesore' and lowered the tone of the neighbourhood! The cheek of it! That van was a classic...well, it would be after months of renovation and a few thousand pounds but it has sentimental value to me. I remember with fond memory that girls seemed to love VW camper vans and it was magic how they lost all their inhibitions once inside!

As I listened politely to Mr. TB out of the corner of my eye, I saw the curtains twitch next door and Mrs. TB's face appeared for a second. Just to let her know what I thought of their request, I reached down and scratched my nuts and adjusted 'Bed Stop' (...the name a favourite girlfriend once gave to a part of my anatomy we both had a lot of respect for!) and you know I'm sure I saw Mrs. TB's eyes widen in shock just before the curtains fell back!

Well, after listening to Mr. TB, I told him I would look into the matter immediately but that was six months ago and since then I have had nothing but cold stares from my neighbours! I tried to make friends with them. I tried to be civil but I could not get through to them, especially her for some reason.

Now this 'hippie chick' (...see below for a 'noisy' incident in which she featured heavily concerning my new neighbours!) I knew who lived at number sixty-nine. Her name was Chryssa and well, she knew something about hippie stuff like astrology and exotic plants! One day she was wandering around my garden (...I think she was looking for somewhere to plant some of her more 'exotic' plants!) in just a pair of the tightest shorts and the skimpiest top you have ever seen when she felt a pair of eyes upon her. These eyes belonged to the very disapproving Mrs. TB! Mrs. TB came to the fence and started to berate my friend about the state of the garden. This was a big mistake on Mrs. TB's part about the state of her clothing!

Chryssa stood there and listened. Her beautiful green eyes studied Mrs. TB as she continued to speak. Finally Chryssa said, "You are a Virgo aren't you?" Mrs. TB suddenly shut up and then replied that, yes she was a Virgo but what did that have to do with anything? My friend Chryssa calmly proceeded to tell Mrs. TB that she was a typical Virgo, a finicky perfectionist trying to bring order to other people's lives by nagging and being a pain in the ass!

Chryssa then said she should let her hair down (...in a literal and emotional sense!) and see that the world is not perfect and run to an orderly schedule and that she should make more friends and to learn to live in harmony with her neighbours. Mrs. TB replied that she had all the friends she needed, especially with all the voluntary work that she did and anyway her neighbour (i.e. me!) was obnoxious!

Chryssa replied that Mrs. TB shouldn't be so shy and anyway. She said (...I hope she was referring to me and not to Mrs. TB's other neighbour, a seventy-six year old man!), "Your neighbour may be obnoxious but he sure can fuck!" I think it was this last remark that made Mrs. TB turn purple and storm off!

Though I have to recount another incident that didn't exactly please Mr. and Mrs. TB. Imagine it's a Sunday afternoon, the weather is hot outside but you are in your bed and you just happen to have an equally hot and completely sex fiend, Karma Sutra-experienced hippie chick named Chryssa (...yes, she from number sixty-nine again!) who just wants to suck and fuck your brains out! So what does a man do? He gives this hippie chick what she wants...but unfortunately just when the Templeton-Bush family is outside in their garden! From what I could gather from a friend who lived across the road, who could also hear and see what was going on, the rising crescendo of feminine screams and masculine shouts of impending orgasmic release went on and on and on while the Templeton-Bushes mowed the lawn and tended to their flowerbeds, trying in a very British manner to ignore the screams and shouts of sexual frenzy!

The Templeton-Bushes were very fond of their garden, especially the back garden, which I must admit, was something to see. A neat lawn surrounded by flowerbeds, a gazebo and a water feature straight out of 'Garden Force' it was. Each flowerbed was immaculately trimmed, and woe betide a weed that wanted to grow there. Many a time I had seen Mr. and Mrs. TB on their hands and knees weeding away. Usually this weeding was accompanied by Mrs. TB nagging away at Mr. TB, telling him to be more diligent in his weeding as Mrs. TB, from two metres away, could spot if he had missed one! That poor man must have suffered but still he must have enjoyed some reward.

My jungle of a garden was next to their immaculate garden, separated by a high wooden fence so they could not see it and I think everything would have been fine except for the 'tree'! Now the 'tree' was old and over the years the branches had grown and were now overhanging the fence. Instead of asking me to cut the branches back, I actually had a solicitor's letter telling me to cut the offending branches back or face further action!

The cheek of it! I was fuming and do you know what I did? I invited some of my more raucous friends round for an impromptu BBQ in my garden where we proceeded to drink copious amounts of lager and eat large amounts of flame grilled burgers. Well, I say flame grilled but I think we did something wrong with the charcoal as all we seemed to do was produce a veritable smokescreen that drifted across the fence into next door! Was it my fault that the Templeton-Bushes were out for the day and had left their washing out to dry...and had left the upstairs windows open as well...and so when they came home they found all their clean fresh clothes and their bedrooms smelling of smoke and burgers?

But according to the Environmental Health Officer from the council, who came round the next day, it was my fault and I was therefore banned from any further BBQ's! And I had a further solicitor's letter informing that if the tree wasn't cut back by the date of the August Bank Holiday, which the letter informed me was the date of Mrs. TB's birthday and her 'birthday garden party', I would be in serious trouble...again!

And so the day of the August Bank Holiday came around and I woke early because this was the day I was finally going to cut the branches back. During the weeks leading up to the Bank Holiday, I knew that the Templeton-Bushes had been watching me every day to see if I would give in to their threats of court action. So every day I would walk into the garden with my tools, look up at the tree...and smile and walk back to my house! I had no desire to get involved with a stupid court action. Today was the day for me to get my 'chopper' out and trim the branches back!

One problem was that, though it would have been easier to trim the branches from the Templeton-Bushes garden, my stupid pride prevented me from asking permission to work in their garden. I had to climb the bloody tree and do a Tarzan impersonation and swing from branch to branch.

So here I was, at nine o'clock on a bright sunny August Bank Holiday Monday, standing in my garden, surveying which branches need to be removed when I heard Mr. TB talking to his wife, telling her that he would be gone till two o'clock. In reply I heard Mrs. TB giving Mr. TB a list of do's and don'ts on where to go, what to buy and woe betide him if he was late! I shook my head in disbelief. There she goes again, nag nag nag!

Have I described her yet? This Mrs. Templeton-Bush who ordered her husband around like a servant and fired off solicitors' letters to her ever so nice neighbour? I hate to say this but I did find her attractive in a funny sort of way. But you have heard of dressing to impress? Well, Mrs. TB dressed to depress! Dowdy, out of fashion, long sleeved, long skirted dresses were the order of the day for Mrs. TB. Even while working in the garden she wore either trousers or voluminous baggy shorts. I have never once seen her in jeans. But I did wonder what lay beneath the surface of her boring clothes and clunky shoes? I thought that Mrs. TB was maybe in her late thirties. She had heavy blonde hair that was always done up in a severe bun. A slim figure with quite nice looking breasts and as for the legs, the only part of her legs that I could see were her ankles and calves and all I can say is that they were slim and shapely.

It's a good job that I am quite fit because clambering up that tree was hard work, lumbered as I was with saws and stuff. I expected Mrs. TB to be in her garden, watching me with a triumphant look on her face but she was nowhere to be seen. I presumed she was in the house getting everything perfect for her perfect birthday party! Everyone, bar me that is, was invited to this grand occasion. Mrs. TB did a lot of voluntary work in the community. People like the local Vicar would be making an appearance.

I had decided to start at the top and trim my way down the blasted tree so I climbed and climbed. I was hidden amongst the leafy branches and soon I was dripping sweat even though I was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Reaching the top I took a breather and rested on a large branch that seemed able to take my weight. I looked out from my leafy vantage point and surveyed the neighbourhood. As I twisted round, a movement caught my eye from an upstairs window in Mrs. TB's house.

Well, to be precise, from what I presumed was Mrs. TB's bedroom window because she was standing with her back to the window...in just her underwear! Now, I have seen a woman in her underwear before and am not usually nonplussed by the sight but this...this was totally unexpected! Totally unexpected in that if someone asked me to describe Mrs. TB's underwear I would have hazarded a guess that she would be wearing a bra in the whitest of white cotton with no lace and plain cotton knickers the size of Belgium! But boy was I wrong! The sight before me was of a shapely attractive body in the blackest, skimpiest, sexiest set of underwear that I had seen in a long time! Now, I have had some practice in the purchasing of, the giving of as a present of and the removal of ladies underwear. I could see, even from a distance, that Mrs. TB's black bra and knickers were expensive, possibly silk.

As you can imagine, the sight before had me totally transfixed in a mixture of amazement and, I have to admit, growing lust! So there I was, up in a tree, watching my neighbour in her undies with my cock growing as stiff, as 'wooden' as the branch I was carefully perched upon. But there was a problem! When a man gets an erection it's usually a quite pleasurable occurrence, something to enjoy...except when you are up a tree and the said erection is awkwardly confined in your shorts! So, without taking my eyes of Mrs. TB as she was now leaning forward examining something on her bed I suppose, but presenting me with the sight of her black-knickered bottom sticking out as if to say 'spank me', I let go my grip on the branch and reached down to make 'Bed Stop' (...'Bed Stop' if you remember the name given to my cock!) to lie more comfortably.

I blame the heat myself for making my hands sweaty and slippery because once I had rearranged my tackle, I reached out to grip the branch again and yes, I should've also taken my eyes off Mrs. TB's arse as well and looked at what I was doing but I didn't...and so I missed the branch! With one hand flailing into space I lost my balance, lost the branch I was holding onto with my other hand and with a despairing scream fell of the branch! The sound of me hitting each and every branch as I fell was accompanied by a loud 'Ouch!' each time Luckily, hitting every branch slowed my fall until I finally hit the ground with a loud thud!

So there I lay, looking up at the sky wondering when the angels would come to take my poor broken body to heaven when, instead of an angel standing over me, Mrs. TB came into view. Now here I will offer up some defence for my later actions. If Mrs. TB had shown an ounce of sympathy or concern for my predicament, I would have thanked her and everything would have been fine. But she didn't...instead I heard the following... ''You stupid man! Look what you have done! My prize roses! You will pay for this!"

Let me explain where I had fallen, not that I had much choice in the matter, but I had fallen right smack in the middle of one of her immaculately maintained rosebeds. I felt thorns sticking in some very sensitive areas and rose petals continued to flutter down from the blooms I had knocked flat. But I hardly felt the thorns that impaled me because something snapped (...luckily it had not been my neck!) and a red mist came over me as I lay there, slowly recovering my senses, staring up at Mrs. TB as she continued to berate me and scold me in the same tone of voice that she used on her husband! All the months of living next door to her, the solicitors' letters and now her total disregard for me lying there in her flowerbed, possibly injured, came to the boil...but all she could think about was her fucking roses!

With a loud groan, I staggered to my feet and stood in front of her swaying as I gingerly felt if anything was broken. Remember, I was just wearing t-shirt and shorts. Well, they had taken something of a battering on the way down and now were nothing but tatters hanging off me. Now, the question is 'would I have acted the same as I did if I hadn't seen Mrs. TB in her bedroom in just her sexy black knickers?' Well, I don't know. All I know is that as I stood there, my eyes were running up and down Mrs. TB's body, images of her earlier display sending electrical signals from my brains to my nether regions! I suppose in her rush to see what the noise was, she had grabbed the first thing she could find to cover herself which was a dressing gown. She hadn't even had a chance to fasten it. She was holding it tightly closed with both hands. But because she was holding it tightly closed, the dressing gown revealed and accentuated her figure. Since I knew what was underneath the said dressing gown, I felt my cock grow and grow!

''You will of course finish of the job. You seem alright now. I want the branches cut back before the party! You hear! And you will give me something in recompense for the damage you have caused by your bumbling incompetence!" I heard Mrs. TB say. I agree that my next action was not the action I would normally take but I could blame the fall. I did bang my head, didn't I? Or it could have been the heat? Or it could have been the large erection I was now sporting? A combination of all three maybe?

But whatever the cause, I answered Mrs. TB by reaching for my tattered t-shirt and pulled at it until it fell around me in rags. And then my shorts followed! Can you imagine what Mrs. TB was thinking at that moment? Here she was in her garden and suddenly a hairy wild man had replaced her annoying, untidy neighbour! A sweaty hairy wild man with absolutely no clothes on, his hair sticking up and full of leaves, twigs and rose petals adorning his body! And as her eyes slowly dropped, a wild man with an enormous erection...an erection that to her seemed to be growing larger!

I suppose I could plead temporary insanity or blame the concussion that I was possibly suffering from for the later events. But at the time, I knew what I wanted to do. I took a step forward towards Mrs. TB...and she took a step back. I moved forward again, she moved backwards, never taking her eyes from my engorged cock. Maybe 'Bed Stop' was leading me so to speak.

''I'm going to give you something my dear Mrs. TB for the damage I have caused your precious flowerbed. Something that you will remember for a long time!" I said as I advanced towards her. I think it was the implication of what I was to 'give' her that caused her to emit a little squeal and turn round and run towards the house. As she turned, I lunged forward but could only grab the sash that was dangling from her dressing gown. Mrs. TB pulled away and left me standing there holding the sash. With a loud menacing growl, I took off after the now running Mrs. TB, and yes, if anyone was watching, it must have been quite a sight! A normally smart and respectable Mrs. Templeton-Bush now clad only in a dressing gown and underwear being chased by a naked man in her own garden!

I just about reached Mrs. TB as she attempted to close the back door in my face, but try as she might, she couldn't quite get the door closed. As I pushed, the door slowly opened. Suddenly Mrs. TB let go of the door and ran away through the kitchen. I stumbled in after her and stopped for a second, shutting the door quietly behind me.

Now, I must stress here that this was not my normal behaviour. I do not chase my neighbours into their houses and I certainly don't spend time in their houses naked...except for that occasion with the lovely Chryssa at number sixty-nine! Now she is hot; a very beautiful woman! You know she had me naked within minutes of entering her house, ostensibly to discuss a quilting bee group she wanted me to join. Then she was dragging me upstairs telling me that she wanted me to...No! I digress, that story I will tell later! Mrs. TB's kitchen was what you would expect from her; very neat and tidy, nothing out of place and everything in its place! The place was sparkling. I wondered if she ever did any cooking in there. The place was spotless! But the kitchen held my attention for only mere seconds as I felt my cock twitch in anticipation. So I left the kitchen in pursuit of my hostess, Mrs. TB! The layout of the house was the same was mine and so I peeped in the dining room first but nothing was in there except a dining room table and chairs straight out of a catalogue, not a speck of dust to be seen!