The middle classes are a curious breed. Determined to be seen to do 'the right thing' and eternally aspirational, there seems to be little of more importance on their horizons than wearing the right clothes, sending their beautiful, talented children to the right schools and living in that area which is 'super'.
The truth is, they are human, just like you and me. I'm probably middle class if you wanted to unpack my background, more comfortable in the polite sitting rooms of the educated rather than the bawdier denizens of those who worked with their hands.
Now forgive me if you feel I'm generalizing furiously - I don't mean to and I certainly don't mean to cause offence. I am merely trying to set the scene rapidly and in a way that you can hopefully relate to.
I lived in such an area, much sought after, in fact my wife and I had a very large house and, in some ways that made us the envy of many. God knows why because the gardening alone was three hours a weekend and that was just to keep on top of it.
I have always been a restless soul and my life has seen many countries, cultures and customs. Yet I always seem to return to these safe enclaves, until I tire of them.
I had tired of this one and, despite multiple requests for more enjoyment in our lives, my wife seemed to think that settling down (whatever that meant) was a good thing and just being so-called normal was an achievement. Little did we know how bored people were in our neighbourhood. I mean, you couldn't buy a house with more than two bedrooms for less than a million and a quarter, most folks seemed to have two cars and everyone, I mean everyone, sent their children to the private schools nearby.
However, just like the serenity of swans, it wasn't the whole picture. A lot of the folk around us were up to their eyeballs in debt, the wives, having snagged the eligible and successful husband, were pretty bored with parenting and their youth wasn't that far behind them for them not to yearn for, shall we say, a little more interest in their lives.
My marriage had collapsed and I had moved away, the wife keeping the large house. Occasionally I would return and the odd nod of recognition would be offered my way by my ex-neighbours but since I wasn't in the same circles anymore, I didn't count.
And so it was, one fine day, that I happened to be in the neighbourhood, dropping off some legal missive to my wife when I espied my old neighbor across the road.
Julie was in her mid thirties with dirty blonde hair and a trim figure. I knew she still swam and she was keen to maintain that youthful shine which had drawn a few lustful eyes her way when she was younger. Pretty, she dressed quite often to impress and it would be a happy day for me when I would see her off to walk her children to school, wearing the tightest jeans and heels. To this day, I don't know why she would but that didn't stop me enjoying it.
Today was a sweltering day, though, and she was dressed in a sleeveless top and a denim skirt, ending above her knees and helping to show off her well shaped calves. I remembered the shape of her tight arse in her jeans and tried not to let it show when she waved at me.
"Hello stranger," she said, smiling, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun, "how have you been?"
I walked across the road and smiled hello back. We chatted for a while and I was lucky enough to be wearing sunglasses so I could thoroughly check out her slim frame, perky breasts encased in a white bra, the edge of which I could see under her armpit.
"It's lucky I bumped into you," she said. It turned out that there was a problem with her garage door, inasmuch as it wasn't closing properly and she wondered if I would take a look at it. Her husband was away for a few days and the usual neighbor who she would ask was on a family holiday, with the children, in term time of all times, none of which was really of interest to me.
"Of course, why don't I see you round there?" I replied, not wanting to be seen walking into the front of her house. Our neighbourhood loved a good gossip, you see.
Their garage was at the back of the property, backing on to a laneway and I walked round, down the cobbled surface, until I came to a clearly broken garage door. I could hear her from the other side.
"Jeepers, this is a bit done in, isn't it?" I said, laughing a bit.
After about half an hour, I had found the problem, fixed it and tested the door so that it was working fine. Julie had been chatting away whilst I was working so it hadn't been too tough, especially when she was passing me tools as I was up the ladder, her stretching upwards outlining those firm looking breasts.
"Do you want a drink? You're quite sweaty and it's really hot." I thanked her and said it would be lovely, I wouldn't be staying long and would like to wash my hands anyway. She said that I didn't need to worry as the kids were at school for about three more hours anyway and she wasn't doing a lot anyway.
I enjoyed following her up the path because I could make out the shape of her arse under her skirt. Thankfully I had my shades down because I caught her looking at me in the glass of the door and I was glad she hadn't seen me ogling her. I mean, she was a neighbor and that sort of thing just didn't happen, even if you had moved.
She made up a jug of iced fruit drink and we sat either end of the sofa at the back of her house. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up under her and we chatted a bit. I could see out over their small garden through the floor to ceiling glass doors but no one seemed able to look in on us.
