Isabels Obsession

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."

"Right o dear, yes the tap...um." He smiled looking at her chest, "But there is nothing wrong with making you wet once in a while eh dear? You enjoy that too, eh?" Isabel ignored his rather obvious 'come-on', and turned back to the coffees she had made. "But look, you have made two coffees. Have you been day-dreaming again, or is there someone here?"

"No Philip, I have not been day-dreaming, and when is there ever any one here? No, I was having a lovely conversation with Paul, next door. So, this is for him."

"Ah Paul. Good man, Paul. Very useful with his hands, don't you know?"

Isabel felt her insides flutter at the thought of Paul and his hands, but rather than fixing something, they were doing things to her that....... "Ohhh," she panted grasping the sink for support.

"You alright old girl?"

"Yes Philip, I am fine, and I'm hardly an 'old girl'? I'm forty-five?"

"Quite right, quite right, Mea Culpa my dear. I say, as Paul is a dab hand at fixing things, maybe you could ask him to have a look at the tap? And maybe the leak in the shower too? I bet if you asked him nicely, laying it on a bit thick, he might even do it for free?"

"Philip! You are a tight wad! Anyway, what do you mean, 'lay it on a bit thick'? I have no clue..."

"Why flirting of course, fluttering those lovely eye-lashes at him."

"Huh, don't be ridiculous Philip. For one, Paul had an extremely attractive wife. A woman that he only lost eighteen months ago. A woman that to be fair, I could not hold a candle to. For the second, Paul has never shown any sort of interest in me, in that way, and thirdly, I wouldn't know how to flirt to save my life. I am useless at that sort of thing."

"Calm down old.... Izzy. I was only asking you to flirt with him, not to sleep with him? No, I'll ask him, don't worry yourself."

"No, I'll do it. But in my way, and if he wants payment, then we will pay him. I don't want him thinking I am tight. Ooohhh for goodness......"

"What is it Isabel, you are acting very strangely today."

"Nothing Philip, now let me take Paul his coffee, before it gets cold. You go back to your cricket and snoozing."

"Right o dear. Don't forget to swing those hips! Ha...ha..." He started coughing and spluttering, and left the kitchen.

Isabel walked down her drive and over to Paul's. She was disappointed that he was not where she had left him. In fact, he was not there at all. Not surprising really, as she had been a good twenty minutes, ten to make the coffee and ten in her own self-indulgence.

"There you are." The deeply rich melodic baritone voice, silky smooth upon her ears, broke out her goose-bumps again and made her shiver in delight, setting the mugs within her hand, chattering. He seemed to have this command over her body already and she was not averse to it at all. Paul laughed and reached for one of them. "I'd better take that, before you spill it." He noticed the glistening wetness upon the fingers of her right hand and knowing from experience immediately what the wetness was; raised an enquiring eyebrow at Isabel, but she had forgotten where those fingers had been, and did not make the connection. "Sorry Isabel, I didn't mean to startle you. I was just swapping out the battery on my impact driver."

"You need batteries for yours, do you? Isabel's face once again reddened immediately, as she heard herself say something that could only really be taken one way. She chastised herself, for letting her mouth run away with the very private thoughts in her head, though in this case, they were no-longer private. "Here," she said, trying to cover her embarrassment by holding out the mug of coffee. "Hot and wet as ordered." She coyly looked at Paul, to see if he had registered what she meant, but he seemed to be distracted.

"Yes Isabel," he said after a reasonable pause, "I can see that indeed you are. Did you perhaps, decide to take my advice? But then go a little further?" He sat back in the same position as last time, but now that he had added a sleeper, he was sitting a little higher. Isabel could not resist the prospect of possibly seeing more of Paul's assets, and sat down opposite him. She tried desperately not to make it too obvious what she was doing, but the thought of trying to look up the leg of Paul's shorts, had her fully flushed from upper chest, to her neck and her cheeks. And she could feel the heat of it too.

"I'm sorry Paul, I'm not sure I get what you mean?" She said, responding to his earlier comment, "You can see I am, what?" She didn't really know what she was saying, she was just trying to keep him there long enough, in the hopes that he might reveal more to her. For some reason, her mouth was extremely dry, yet she was well aware another place on her body was the exact reverse.

Paul pointed to her chest. "Wet tee-shirt. Hot and wet? I was agreeing with you." Paul's eyes covered her breasts. They were not as small as he thought, and in fact were quite pert. He revised what he had guessed to be her age, knocking it back a few years. He noted too that her nipples were standing out proud of the breast, upon the upturn. And he could not help but smile at this rather retiring woman, as her body gave away things that she no-doubt was trying to keep to herself.

Noticing his roaming eyes, was not helping Isabel at all. She felt like she was a small creature, caught in the gaze of a predator, too scared to move, not knowing whether it was safe, or not. But her insides churned at the thrill of being looked at in a way she had not known before. "Oh! I...yes...I am a little wet, aren't I? I got overly hot in the kitchen and took off my jumper as you suggested. Then as I was filling the kettle, I must have got distracted, and ended up spraying myself with water. It could just be that old, worn tap, bloody thing. It got me all over the chest." She pointed at her chest, quite unnecessarily, but in so doing, basically gave Paul permission to look at it too. He of course did so, again. Enjoying the way the wet tee-shirt clung to her skin, defining her waist and the large swellings of her breasts.

"Well, lucky old water, eh?" Paul said with an air that Isobel thought was a little dismissive. "I can see that it is now having a pleasant cooling effect at least? And this is the first time I have seen you with your hair down. Your look quite lovely."

Isabel looked quizzically at him, then down at her breasts saying "How so...... oh!" Then, "Oh thank you, yes the band came out." She looked back down at her pert, thrusting nipples and back up at Paul.

"Quite."

Isabel folded her arms across her chest, but could not erase the fact that Paul had seen and commented on her erect nipples, or at least, he had seen that she had erect nipples, and probably guessed why she did too? 'Oh God, oh God Izzy!' she thought to herself....'What is going on?'

"Thank you for the coffee by the way, I had no idea it was going to be that perilous for you."

"Oh, I don't mind getting wet for you. Oh my God, what am I saying, I mean it is not a problem." She was getting more and more flustered as she conversed with Paul, he had this way about him, this masculine power, this experience, this certainty, which Isabel found completed intoxicating and instantly addictive.

Paul laughed at her awkwardness. "Perhaps you should get the tap replaced? Do you want me to have a look at it for you? I'm not qualified, but I know what I'm doing. Or you can get a professional in. Either way you will be in safe hands."

"Yes, Philip did say you had safe hands. As it happens, there were a couple of things that Philip wanted me to ask you." Isabel began to blush yet again under his intense gaze, she had only just calmed herself down. She suddenly felt naked and vulnerable, crossing her legs and folding her arms tighter across her chest. She felt her taut nipples upon her naked arms, poking and prodding her as she breathed, reminding her that they had not gone away, and nor were they. "Oh!" She voiced, annoyed that her body was misbehaving in such an obvious way, betraying to the very instrument of her arousal, just how she was feeling.

To add to her problem, Paul swivelled to put his mug down, having finished his drink. Isabel's eyes were suddenly locked into place. She found herself salivating, completely at the mercy of whatever her body was about to do. She squeezed her thighs together and regretted that immediately as she felt the pleasure cascade over her, emanating from her vagina, as her excitement grew. She whimpered a little before uncrossing her legs to prevent the inevitable; quickly denying her nipples the contact with her arms. But the little acorns of lust, had already received the command from her clitoris, and they bloomed still further, along with a deep reddening of her flush response. "Oh, my goodness!" She almost screamed, bearing witness to almost the full head, of the serpent within Paul's shorts. "Paul!"