One
The little cottage was perfect. Olde worlde quaintness wrapped in new build technology.
"I love it."
Claire was almost skipping at the first sight of their new home. A local stone and oak construction with the modernity of fast glass panels. It stood against the background of blue skies and sea like a testimony to Pete's expanding wealth. That from a working-class background his business now enabled him to buy something this special was beyond Claire's wildest hopes in a husband.
"Wait till you see inside." Pete pushed the heavy door wide with a satisfied grin.
"Our first home together Mrs Meyer."
"Why thank you, Mr Meyer.
What's that ugly thing?"
She stood at the threshold looking down at a small bluish stone figurine that sat to the side of the door.
"A garden gnome?"
"A Cornish piskie." Pete replied.
"A pixie?"
"Piskie. Same thing I suppose, but Cornish.
And don't call it ugly. They can be mischievous."
"Whatever. It's still ugly. Looks like a shrivelled-up old man with Vulcan ears."
Claire sidled through the door forgetting the unpleasant little thing.
Her face beamed at the sight greeting her. A large open oak framework stretched up to the vaulted ceiling over the open living area. Hard tiles covered the floor. The landing was galleried, more oak making up the balustrade. Huge floor-to-ceiling glass panels stretched along the side and wrapped around to the rear.
"We need a cleaner."
"Why? You think I'm made of money."
She put her arm around his waist.
"Yes.
I'm not dusting up there." She pointed at the beams crisscrossing high above them.
"I'll get you a ladder."
He squeezed her sides leaving her twisting to escape in a fit of giggles.
"Where do you want your stuff?"
Claire cleared her throat and tried to look professional as Pete let go and turned to answer the removal driver.
"Just drop the boxes over there. The furniture can go where you guys think. We'll sort it out later.
"Will do."
"Come on. Let me show you outside."
Pete grabbed her hand and headed for the back of the house. Glass bi-folding doors swung smoothly away to let them step out onto a stone patio area and grassed landscaping.
The roar of the sea echoed up on the air currents and squawking gulls played the symphony of the coast.
"It's beautiful."
"Needs fencing or perhaps a dry stone wall. Mind the edge."
At that Claire walked across the grass to take a look. It wasn't a high cliff but it'd still hurt to tumble over. At the base was a tiny sandy cove. Just a strip of beach with gently rolling waves as the tide ebbed from its high.
"Can we get down there?" She asked.
"There's some steps cut in the rocks a few hundred yards further up.
It's not part of the land but the builders tell me no one ever comes here.
No topless bathing though. We have to share it with the neighbours."
"Topless? I'm going full nude. Especially if the neighbours are cute." She joked.
Again he wrapped his hands around her waist and kissed her neck.
"Careful. There might be a pretty young wife that moves in. Or a couple of nubile young bi's."
She pushed him away laughing.
"Get outta here. Probably be a prudish old couple knowing our luck."
She glanced at the other cottage again.
"It's a bit close."
He shrugged.
"Yeah, I know. But the land isn't easy to build on. Everything is to a cost."
"Doesn't matter. The house is just amazing. Let's hope whoever moves in is pleasant."
She looked out to sea again. A rolling tapestry of greens and greys. Autumn was approaching and there was a chill in the westerlies, blowing in from the Atlantic. The sun was still warm on the skin when it wasn't playing hide and seek behind the drifting clouds and she felt the promise of a Cornish summer the following year.
"I just love it." She said again putting her arms around him.
"And so to celebrate our first night I've got a bottle of supermarket best." He held the bottle of red wine up proudly."
"You own your own business and the best you can do is supermarket wine?
Cheap skate. I should have married Graham."
"Graham? Wasn't he the dorky one who flipped burgers and had a crush on you in school?"
"Yeah. But I'd never have gone short of food."
"As I remember he didn't either."
"Yeah, he was a little podgy." She grinned.
Pete hunted around for a corkscrew hoping it wasn't still in one of the unpacked boxes.
"Ah. Here it is. In with the knives."
Claire took a seat on the sofa in front of the big glass panes that lined the side of the house and brought the faux old word crashing into the modern.
"Here you go."
He handed the glass over and took a seat next to her.
Outside it was darkening. Nights drawing in with the end of summer. They could just see the outline of the neighbouring house fading across the cobbled drive. Similar in style with its own wall of glass facing them. It was the only other residence for at least a mile.
"Who do you suppose bought that one?"
He shrugged.
"No idea.
No one's moved in yet by the looks of it."
"If it is a family it'll be good for when we have children. They'll have friends next door."
"They'll be teenagers by the time ours are toddlers."
"You'll need to build that wall along the back. Probably fence the whole garden in with the cliff."
"I think children are a way off yet. I want to keep my figure a while yet."
Claire stood up and went back to the kitchen area, peeking inside the fridge.
"I'm hungry."
Pete followed.
"Four years we said.
But we can practice a lot in that time."
He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her against him.
"Hey.
I nearly spilt my wine."
"The beauty of tiled floors. It won't stain."
He kissed her hard on the lips, pushing her back until she was pinned against the worktop.
"Stop it. Someone will see."
"Who? There's no one for miles." His hand was searching under her pullover, finding the comforting feel of a warm bare tit. It fitted into the cup of his hand and he sensed the little button swelling and pressing against his palm.
"You don't know that. What if there's someone next door? Or walking past. They can see right in."
Pete looked back at the window. In the darkness outside, all he could see was their reflection and the lights of the kitchen appliances bouncing back.
"It's empty."
He turned back to kiss her neck.
Claire was swaying, her rising heat quelling her reticence.
"Curtains. First thing tomorrow." She demanded.
"First thing."
He was tugging at the pullover, trying to lift it. Claire could feel his cock pressing against her and she lifted her arms.
The garment came away, swishing her long blonde hair, static giving tiny crackles as it vanished.
"Oh my. They never get old."
He stared at her tits. Perfect creamy white mounds.
"They will one day. Then you'll have to get on your knees." She laughed.
"I was intending to do that anyway."
He slipped downwards, tugging at her slacks as he went.
"What? Wait.
