George Gets Caught

A slightly more light hearted story than my last few.

Please let me know if you enjoyed it.

*

I figured the moment had come!

Darkness had fallen outside; we'd both just had a nice cup of tea, and Jilly, my wife looked as if she was soon going to be off to bed.

"I'm off to the pub," I shouted out to her. "Won't be too late."

"OK," she called back from the kitchen. "Don't make a row when you come back in."

If only she knew. If only she knew what I really had planned for that evening.

I closed the front door confidently behind me, and already my heart started to beat that little bit faster. Before long it would be pounding.

Walking up our path, I then left our front garden, turned left, and strolled casually down our road. So far, nothing to worry about, nothing to hide, and still no problem as I took the first left, the route for the pub.

Fifty yards down the road, I looked carefully around me, and seeing nobody, darted quickly into the lane, and stood there in the shadows till I was sure nobody had spotted me. It was the lane that ran behind our houses, or to be more precise, the gardens to my house, and to that of my neighbours. Just ten yards in, and I stopped again, waited, hardly breathing, and listening for any sign off movement, as from now on my movements would become more and more difficult to explain if I was caught.

Satisfied, I crept slowly along the grassy path, able to judge my position in the dark by my neighbour's garden shed, after which I was able to find the back gate that I was seeking.

I opened it confidently, glad that on a previous sortie the old hinges and latch had been thoughtfully oiled, the squeal that they had made that first night, now thankfully a thing of the past.

Making my way slowly up the garden, a route that by now was so familiar even in the dark, I approached the back of the house, and the window. Not just any window, but the one I had peeked through on several nights before.

The two building blocks that I had left there, hidden carefully behind the barrel, were still there, and I moved them carefully and silently to under the window, so that I could stand higher, and see more easily into the room.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I found the gap in the curtains still there, as without that my venture would be fruitless.

So far, so good, but tonight was going to be something different, a step further, much further if all went to plan!

The wait seemed to take an age, but by then I knew this girl's movements well, and I knew that I was not too late, that she had not yet gone to bed. Not only that, but I knew her husband would not be in, even knew where he was, and if I did eventually get to the pub later on that night, then I knew for certain he would be there. For the time being however, there was little chance of being caught.

I jumped in surprise, nearly falling off the blocks as the lamp was switched on and flooded the room with light. It always caught me out like that.

The girl, the woman, walked into the room and stretched. She always did that, and she was as beautiful as ever. Short dark hair, slim but curvaceous body with long shapely legs, full breasts, not too huge, but nicely rounded and firm. Her pretty face, and almond eyes complimenting her smooth tanned skin, and hinting at some Asian connection at some stage back in her ancestry. She was stunning!

My breathing became faster and faster, my chest tightening as I watched her, knowing that she would soon begin to undress. Tonight she had on an expensive creamy blouse, buttoned up right to her neck, the swell of her breasts more than apparent beneath. Below that she wore a stylish blue skirt which came down to two or three inches above her knee. It was fitted and showed off her nicely rounded bottom and shapely hips to perfection, and her toned bare legs, not needing any tights or stockings, just seemed to go on and on forever. As ever she wore high heels, black ones today, and I hoped that tonight she might leave them on till the end.

Other than her jacket, she was dressed exactly as she had been when I had spotted her earlier, through our lounge window, as she came home from work. Dressed she looked stunning, an eye turner when she entered a room, but stripped, as I by then knew, she was fantastic, beautiful, so sexy, with a body to die for.

A strange thought to have occurred to me, with what was about to take place.

She pottered around a little, putting things in their place, the delay only increasing my excitement, my anticipation at the show to come.

My heart was pounding, and my throat went dry.

Then at last she stood up and started to undo her blouse, as always starting at the bottom and working her way slowly up to the top. It is strange to find out the habits of others like that, and in this case not only strange but exciting as well, anticipating every movement in advance. Once unbuttoned, she slid the blouse back off her shoulders, catching it as the silky material slipped easily down her arms.

As she reached over and dropped it into the wash bin, I sucked in deeply as her breasts seem close to spilling out over the top of her small white bra, which held, but hardly seemed to cover her lovely rounded globes. Next she reached round to her side, and casually unzipped her skirt, which then slid down her shapely legs to a tangle on the floor around her ankles.

Before going on, she bent over, picked it up, and neatly folded it before laying it over the back of a chair. The panties matched her bra, both in colour and in minimalism, just a wispy piece of satin cloth, held together by a couple of tiny strings, the apparent outrageous cost of such attire, suddenly making sense when seen on the body of such a beautiful woman.

She walked around the room, doing I knew not what, nor did I care, as all she now had on were her underwear and her high heels. Some time ago I would have been happy with that, but she was of course not finished, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra, sliding it off, and discarding it in the bin along with her blouse. Almost as if by design, she turned, faced the window, and reached up to run her hands through her hair, her magnificent breasts stretched taught, her large dark nipples sticking out proudly, calling out to be played with, kissed and sucked.

The woman dropped her arms and spun round, her lovely breasts swaying with the motion, their natural beauty stunning my senses. Sitting down on the bed, facing away from me, I watched as she eased her panties down over her hips, then down her legs, and throw them to join the other things in the bin. She then fiddled with something on the side table beside her, my impatience for the first time surfacing, as I waited for her to stand back up fully naked. The wait was well worth it, and at last she stood and went over to her wardrobe, looking as good as any professional nude model I've ever seen, naked except for those sexy high heels. Once there she bent down, taking off one shoe at a time, putting them carefully away as she did so, my eyes bulging as I caught glimpses of her sweet bare pussy peeping out between her thighs. And then at last she turned to face me, just for an instant, but taking my breath away with her sheer naked beauty.

I breathed out for what seemed to be the first time since she had started to strip, but none of the tension flowed out from my body, not till the vision waltzed off to her bathroom for her shower, her beautifully sculptured back and tight rounded bottom swinging in harmony.

Till tonight I had patiently waited her return with the towel wrapped round her waist, her beautiful breasts thrusting out, still wet from the shower. I had then seen her slip out of the towel and watched her drying herself, lifting one leg at a time up onto the bed, and giving me visions of heaven. Then she'd climb into bed, laying there on her back the bedclothes only up to her waist, maybe looking forward to her husband coming back from the pub. But tonight would be different, and a whole new daring adventure, a risky one at that, was about to be played out.

As soon as she left the bedroom, I hopped down from the blocks, and rushed over to the back door, knowing it would be unlocked; knowing it was left that way for her husband to get back in when he returned from the pub.

Quietly letting myself in, it was easy to creep silently down the corridor, and find my way to her bedroom door. My plan was to hide myself in her room, in the dressing room, which I knew she would not go to. To secrete myself there and spy on her through the half open door. To be actually there in the room with her while she was naked, just a foot or so away from her, within reach of her, as she dried herself, and then stay there till she fell asleep.

After that? Who knew? This might be one night that I would not make it to the pub, and damn the consequences.

I silently opened the door, and with my heart in my mouth, stepped carefully into the room.

That's when it went horribly wrong!

The woman had come straight back from the bathroom, and was stood there facing me, completely naked, not even the towel round her waist, her firm breasts heaving with the fear or whatever of her situation.

But it wasn't her lovely breasts that caught my attention, or the tiny strip of fine, dark curly hair that nestled at the top of her thighs, or even the sweet damp pink lips that protruded saucily just below that.

It was the pistol that she held in her hand.

It was the small black pistol that she held unwaveringly, aimed straight between my eyes.

I tried to call out, to explain, to ask forgiveness, anything, but as much as my mouth moved, nothing came out, the shock of being caught out freezing me to the spot.

I watched, stunned by surprise and disappointment at how this was to end, unable to move, as I saw her finger tighten on the trigger. I could even make out the skin around her knuckle whitening as the pressure increased, as she squeezed the trigger harder.

I felt the terrible shock is it smashed into my temple, remembering only her mocking laugh as the coldness washed over me.

"Serves you right you perverted bastard," the woman spat out at the poor wretch before her, a cruel smile of victory spreading across her otherwise beautiful face. "You really thought I didn't know you were spying on me."

Whether by design or accident, it had struck me a glancing blow on the side of my head, but even so I fell to my knees, reaching up to feel the wetness that was even then running down my forehead and into my eyes, already beginning to obscure my view.

She stood over me, laughing cruelly, mocking my abject failure, taunting me with her still naked beautiful body, so close, within reach even, but I knew I was finished, beaten.

"You deserve this." Was all she said, calmly without feeling, as she again raised her weapon and pointed it straight at me, terrifying me.

"Strip," she ordered me coldly. "Now it's your turn to be humiliated."

She stood before me, her gun hand never wavering, the grin never leaving her face as she forced me to strip off.

"On the bed. On the bed now," she almost screamed at me, leaving no room for argument.

She looked down at me as I cowered before her, even then my huge erection refusing to go down as I crawled over to her bed.

"Think you're going to use that do you?" She asked coldly, disdainfully. "Then you've got another think coming. All you're getting is this you bastard."

Then she ended it.

She aimed straight at me, and without so much as a second thought, no compassion at all, my wife Jilly emptied the rest of the water pistol all over me, giggling wildly, soaking me, and drenching me in freezing cold water.

I grabbed her, pulled her down onto the bed, and explored the body that I had been aching to touch all evening. Within moments we were making love, passionate sex, thrusting our bodies together, using my raging erection for what it had been designed for.

An hour or so later, I'd lost touch of the time, we laid back completely spent, Jilly cradled in my arms.

"You missed the pub George," she said sleepily.

"It was worth it," I replied, wondering if I could get it up one more time.

"I think we'll put that down as one nil to me George," said Jilly, my beautiful, but extremely competitive wife.

How the hell was I going to get my own back on her now?