This story is dedicated to PiccoloGattino. Thank you for allowing me to use you as my muse.
Isabel, was an enigma. She had lived next to Paul for the last four years. And although he had many a conversation with her, they had been fleeting and awkward, on her part. She seemed shy and could not look Paul in the eye when they talked, yet she did not try to scamper away either. The way she dressed was another thing that made it difficult for Paul to know her body type. She would always wear baggy jumpers, non-descript jeans and trainers. Even her brown hair, he could not tell the length of. For she would always wear it in a bun at the nape of her neck, much like his granny used to. The rather geeky glasses that she would often wear, just made her face look plain and unattractive, not that he had ever thought of her in any other way, than his next-door neighbour.
Her chest size, waist or length and shape of her legs, were complete unknowns, as she seemed to go out of her way to hide them. Even her partner was a strange choice, seemingly much older and more fatherly than you would expect a woman of......of.....Paul had no idea about her age either. The frumpy way in which she presented herself, suggested she was in her late fifties, but she could equally be in her twenties, thirties or her forties, there was something rather timeless about her.
He had seen her wear a dress once, but it was a rather long affair, which she wore black woollen tights with, and white trainers. Again, if there ever was a sexless creature, then poor Isabel was it. Paul wondered just how often she had sex with her partner, and would guess that if she did, it was not frequent, and would no-doubt be conducted with the lights out and under the covers. It was during that thought that he was interrupted.
"Hi Paul, how are you today? Still working on edging, I see?" Isabel had a slight twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth, but Paul could not fathom why.
"Hello Isabel, yep have been doing this for a while, need to dig out to level, then a soft sand base, then the sleepers."
"They look large Paul; I imagine they are heavy too?" Her smile broadened as she spoke.
"Yes, these are oak, so they do weigh a ton."
"How do you handle them when you are on your own?" Her smile was now broad enough to show her teeth, and Paul suddenly realised, or at least thought he did, that despite her usual awkwardness, Isabel was playing with him a little. Which was unusual for this socially awkward woman.
"Er..... carefully. If I can't hold it, I let it go. I don't want to do myself any damage."
"Oh no," Isabel almost panted out, "I agree letting it go is definitely better than trying to stop it."
Paul was now sure there was inuendo in there somewhere, but couldn't believe his ears, or his brain's translation of what he was hearing, so chose to ignore it. He sat down on one of the sleepers for a bit of a break. His naked back and chest, were covered in the sweat created by the heavy task, with many a dirty mark from the railway sleepers, across his arms, chest and shoulders. His body was tanned from many weekends working on his garden, and the physical nature of what he had been doing, meant that he sported a good physique, which Isabel seemed to be coyly admiring, unless he was much mistaken? He reached to his left, for his bottle of water, and heard Isabel gasp. Looking smartly up, he saw her turn her head away from him saying, "Look, a Squirrel, I do love the way they chatter at you and tell you off if you are too close to them."
"Yes, grey squirrels are characters all right, but I would love for there to be red squirrels in this area instead. They are smaller, but fair more attractive, and cute."
Isabel had turned back to Paul and seemed distracted. Her face had flushed and her jaw was open. "Are you OK Isabel? Can I get you a drink, you must be hot with that jumper on in this heat?"
"No, no....don't you move." She suddenly said with more force than intended. I'll get us both one, what would you like, tea, coffee, water, juice?"
"I'd love a coffee if it is not too much trouble."
"Not at all, how would you like it?" That smile was back and Paul decided he would chance his arm with inuendo too.
"As it comes, hot and wet please."
Isabel caught her breath before replying, "Coming right up!" She turned and almost ran into the house, making Paul giggle a little to himself, before getting up and moving another railway sleeper into place.
As Paul was making a retaining wall, he didn't want the sleepers moving, so had been using the long, sleeper screws to retain them in place. Once he was happy with the location of the sleeper he had just put down, he screwed three screws in, locking it to the sleepers below. On the last screw, his impact driver was getting low on battery power, so he went into the garage to put the battery on charge and grab the one that had been charging.
Isabel rushed into the kitchen; she didn't know what to do with herself. She felt hot and clammy, sweat was upon her brow, her palms felt damp and she could not control her breathing. She decided that Paul was right. It was far too hot for a jumper, why she put it on, she didn't know? Pulling it over her head, she threw it over a kitchen chair. The action had loosened her hair from the hair-band and rather than putting it back up, she left it unfettered. The layered brown, slightly curly hair seemed to have natural highlights in it. It glistened in the sunlight, but the long length, falling to just below breast height, meant more often than not, it just got in her way. She put the kettle under the tap and began to fill it with water. As she did so, she could think of nothing other than what she had seen.
Paul's body, naked apart from shorts and boots, glistening with sweat as he worked hard in the mid-day sun. His golden skin, flecked with dirt, made him look rugged, rough and ready. The thought had her panting again. She looked up at the ceiling, knowing that her partner was upstairs, watching sports on the television. But then the thought of what else she had seen of Paul's, burst back into her head, making her hand shake so much, that the water filling the kettle caught the side and splashed out onto her chest, soaking the tee-shirt she had on. "Oooh!" she gasped at the coldness of the water that penetrated to her skin, then suddenly and unexpectedly she convulsed, gripping the sink, whimpering.
"What......ooooohhhhh! OHHH! Wha......shit!" Her legs shook and her wet chest heaved. Her body had broken out in goose-bumps and her neck and face burned in the flushed aftermath of a shockingly quick, completely bewildering, visually-based, orgasm, that had taken Isabel completely by surprise, on a number of levels.
It had always been difficult for her partner to make her come. He fumbled about in all the right places, but just couldn't seem to co-ordinate his attack. He had erectile disfunction anyway, so they had to pre-plan their 'romance', and that took the edge of spontaneity out of it, that didn't help. And as for Isabel. Well, she didn't exactly exude sexual eroticism. And as for masturbation, she had never thought about it, let alone committed the act. Yet here she was, gripping the sink, trying to get her breathing under control, at the same time as comprehend what had just happened? 'Had she just climaxed?' Her panties felt a little strange, that was for sure. It is true that she had never seen another man's penis before. Paul's penis, although she had only seen the very tip of it, certainly seemed to be very much larger than her partner's Philip. This quick flash, immediately tripled the number of rather lewd thoughts she was having about her neighbour. Paul's, was only the second penis she had seen in real life. Her furtive look up his shorts, and the impact it had had on her was dramatic. She speculated to herself right then, why she had looked, and what she had been expecting to find in her intentional voyeurism? In reality, she had not really thought it through. But the sight of what appeared to be a healthy-sized penis, had her all in a flutter. Even if Paul was nearly half her age.
As the shaking in her body and predominantly her legs began to subside, Isabel stood up straight in total surprise. She was completely aghast, at her body's reaction to her forbidden fruit. It would seem that she had more than a 'thing', for her next-door neighbour?
Putting the kettle on to boil the water, she popped the button of her jeans and dragged the zip slowly downwards. As the waistband of her very tired and practical knickers, came into view, she stopped. Sliding her hand across her flat stomach and under the waistband of her panties, she was suddenly very curious as to whether the whole episode had made her wet? She thought she knew the answer, but needed substantiation. Her fingers slid through the neatly trimmed lawn of her brown pubic hair, approaching the heat of her vulva. She could already feel the wetness of her panties on the backs of her fingers, as they slid easily between the pronounced fleshy lips and along her vaginal cleft. Her fingers, seemingly of their own accord, pushed upon the vaginal sphincter, the tip of one lubricated finger, slipping easily inside her, with a wet smacking sound. She began to shake again.
"Ah, there you are, making tea, I see? That is wonderful and just what I needed, so hot up there, I must have dozed off."
Isabel had been so intent upon her investigation, that she had forgotten about her partner, and had certainly not heard his approach. Whipping out her wet fingers and sliding up her zip, she left the button undone, feeling that it would be too obvious, doing that back up. Luckily her untucked tee-shirt covered it up. "Just coming, Philip," she panted, knowing that that was not a million miles away from the truth. She had almost been caught with her fingers inside her, fingering her pussy, and quite likely resulting in her first self-induced orgasm. The thought had her fidgeting, as she suddenly realised it was something that she really wanted and needed to do. Typical that her partner should spoil the pleasure of her release, again. She turned and passed him the tea, wishing that he would get back to his television programme.
"My goodness Isabel, you are all wet. What have you been up too?"
"Eh...Uh... Well....I.... that is.." Isabel's face was fully flushed in the heat of her embarrassment. How had he spotted that she was wet? She looked down at herself, expecting to see a wet patch spreading from the crotch of her jeans, but of course noted her soaked tee-shirt and realised that Philip was taking about that. "Oh, that." She gasped with a relieved smile. "I missed with the kettle, and managed to spray myself with the water instead. When are you going to get that old tap fixed anyway?" She brushed her hands across her wet chest, noting that her nipples were standing out firm and transparent. "I daresay I will dry quickly in this heat, and actually it is quite cooling now. But we must really get it sorted Philip."
