The Gap in the Curtains

It's a strange thing to move in with your fiancée's parents. It's even stranger when you do this having never actually

met

your fiancée's parents before! But this is the situation I found myself in, not long after my twenty-fourth birthday, and it led to an extremely weird chain of events.

It all started when I met Liz. And when I say 'met' I don't mean in the physical sense, because like an increasing number of couples these days we actually met on the internet. It wasn't an internet dating site, or even a site where people meet for cybersex or 'adult chat', it was just an online community dedicated to mountain biking (a hobby that we both shared). We both posted on the forums, then we started having discussions over the 'private messaging' feature of the website, then eventually we exchanged internet messenger accounts and started to talk to each other about all kinds of things, not just mountain biking. I won't bore you with all the details, because they're not particularly important, but to cut a long story short we eventually realized that we both 'liked' each other and our conversations and relationship suddenly became romantic in nature.

Although we hadn't yet met in real life, Liz seemed like my perfect girl. She was a couple of years younger than me, but attractive, smart, well educated and feisty. The only problem was that she lived two thousand miles away! I had my own apartment in San Francisco, while Liz had been born and raised in a small town in Georgia and was back living with her parents since she finished college. As a result it was several months after we first considered ourselves 'a couple' that we actually met for the first time in the flesh. I offered to make the long trip to Georgia and, although she wasn't ready for me to meet her family and friends yet, she came to stay with me for a weekend in a hotel near where she lived. She turned out to be everything I'd hoped and we spent a lovely weekend together. Six weeks later she came to California for a week and I took her to see everything in my home state. Then the following month we met up for a long weekend in Vegas, which I guess qualified as neutral territory.

By now we were very much in love and we would spend hours talking to each other on the phone and online. Then, one Friday night, I was leaving work and completely unexpectedly Liz was waiting for me outside. She took me on a long drive up to a cabin in the mountains that she had booked for the weekend. It was incredibly romantic and that night, while watching the sun set over the Pacific Ocean, I proposed to her. It wasn't something premeditated, I didn't even have a ring, but it was a perfect setting and it just felt right. She said yes immediately.

However, there were problems that had to be addressed and the biggest one was distance. Liz was extremely close to her family and wasn't willing to just leave them behind and move to the west coast. I wasn't particularly close to

my

family, but I had a job and friends back home and I wasn't sure I was ready for the culture shock of moving from a vibrant city to a small, sleepy town. We discussed several options, but none of them were really right for both of us. We were both quite stubborn and it caused our first real arguments as a couple, which eventually ground into a kind of stalemate.

It was getting to the point where I felt that maybe we couldn't make it work and I was reluctantly considering breaking off the engagement, when fate intervened. I worked as a builder and landscaper for a garden design firm, but the company suddenly went into liquidation. There was no real warning, we just turned up for work one Monday morning and were informed that everybody had been laid off. Liz seized this opportunity and, a few days later, made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Although I had been working in garden design for a couple of years, Liz know that this was just for experience and what I really aspired to do was work in park planning. She called and told me that her dad had contacts on the town council and that they had a vacancy in the town planning department. After the brief formality of a phone interview the job was offered to me there and then. It made everything ridiculously easy. The stress of losing my job had been replaced with the elation of being offered a

much better

job. It also removed the main obstacle in me moving to Georgia, which was Liz's intention all along I guess. I did the obvious thing and accepted the offer.

There were still minor details to sort out. I wanted to rent a place of our own, but apparently Liz's parents had objections to that. They still hadn't met me and knew that Liz had also only spent a small amount of time with me in real life. They had reservations (quite reasonable ones I guess) about their daughter getting engaged and moving in with me so quickly. They offered an alternative though - I could move in with

them

while we saved up to buy our own place. Liz's parents were clever and reading between the lines I knew that this wasn't just about saving money. It would also be a test for our relationship to see if we really did want to live together and ultimately get married. I reluctantly agreed, but I wasn't terribly enthusiastic about the arrangement. I was used to having my own space and I wanted to have plenty of time alone with Liz. I figured this would be very difficult in a house that contained not only her mum and dad, but also her two sisters and brother as well. That's a lot of people I would have to get along with! Liz reassured me that everything would be fine and that their house was 'quite large'.

_______

As it turned out, 'quite large' was a massive understatement; the Delaneys' family home was

huge

! Although it was only on one story, it seemed to spread out endlessly and was situated in what must have been about four acres of land. Although Liz had told me that her father was a lawyer, she had never really said much about her family's financial situation. But the size of the house, along with her dad's apparent 'contacts' at town hall, led me to believe that he was quite high up in the lawyer food chain. There were at least eight bedrooms (one for her parents, one for each of the four children and at least three spare), four bathrooms, a few different living areas and a bunch of doors that, for a while anyway, I had no idea where they led. It seemed that space really wouldn't be a problem after all.

As for the family, they turned out to be a very interesting bunch. Liz's father was in his early fifties and a stereotypical lawyer -- sharp, logical and difficult to get one over. But he was honest, fair, hard-working, and really cared a lot about his children. Her mother had apparently also been a legal professional when she was younger, but had given it up to raise a family and had since turned into a (sometimes overly) cheerful bustling housewife. She spent all day cooking, cleaning and doing laundry and actually seemed to enjoy it as I rarely saw without a smile on her face. They were both non-religious, with a modern outlook on the world, and had no problem with Liz and I sharing a room before we were married. After a while it was also clear that they both liked me, which was a huge relief.

Then there were the siblings. Liz had an older sister called Vicky, a younger sister called Anne and a younger brother called Charlie (I found out later they were all named after English kings and queens, namely Queen Victoria, Queen Elizabeth I, Queen Anne and King Charles II respectively). Charlie was a typical twelve-year-old boy, full of energy and enthusiasm. Having grown up with three sisters and no brothers he seemed delighted with me moving in as he finally had somebody to help build his tree house, play baseball with and help with other 'boy projects', now his father was too old for that kind of thing.

Vicky was also no problem; I hit it off with her immediately. She was three years older than Liz and so actually closer to my age than Liz herself was. She was a tomboy with short dark hair, a pierced tongue and a wicked sense of humor. She was completely cool with me, and seemed to like having someone else in the house that was willing to have a couple of beers, shoot pool or watch Georgia Tech football games on a Saturday night. Although she had plenty of guy friends, none of them ever seemed to be 'boyfriends' and I secretly wondered if she was a lesbian.

That just left Anne. She was twenty, so two years younger than Liz, and in more ways than one was the 'princess' of the family. She had perfect skin and long, blonde, silky hair flowing down her shoulders and upper back. She also had a large and perky pair of breasts atop her perfect body -- not overweight, but not too skinny either. In fact, taken as the sum of her physical components, she was far and away the most attractive in the household, if not the whole town! At first I thought it might be quite hard living in close proximity to such an attractive girl who was strictly off-limits, but I quickly stopped looking at her in that way for one good reason -- Anne was a complete bitch!

Boy did she make my life difficult. I tried my best to connect with her and get her to like me, as I did with all of Liz's family, but unlike the others she seemed to completely resent me being allowed into

her

house. I never saw her smile and she was always extremely short with me, often downright rude. And I soon found out that she was talking badly about me behind my back to Liz and to her parents, spreading lies and trying to get me into trouble. It was infuriating that I had achieved great relationships with five out of six in the family, but the remaining one was determined to ruin everything for me. It wouldn't have been so bad except that, in Liz's eyes, Anne was still her baby sister who could do no wrong. She thought that I was exaggerating and just needed to 'be more patient with her'. Vicky was a bit more sympathetic, but would mostly just shrug her shoulders and say 'Anne is just Anne' whenever I broached the subject.

It was a shame because everything else was going so well. Liz and I were getting along just fine, my new job was going great and I was even starting to embrace and enjoy the small town lifestyle. In the end I gave up and just did the best I could to stay out of Anne's way, while trying to keep on the right side of everybody else. I wanted to contribute to the family so, as well as keeping Charlie entertained, I tried to find odd jobs to do around the house. This wasn't easy as Liz's mother ran a tight ship, but I did some work around the yard and also took on the job that ended up changing my life -- taking out the trash!

_______

Okay, when I say changed my life, I am talking about in the most indirect and strange way possible, but the fact remains if I hadn't undertaken this most menial of household chores, I would probably be in a very different place right now. I got into a routine where every Wednesday night I would take out the trash while Liz was getting ready for bed. I still have no idea why women take so long to get ready for bed, but for at least for one night a week I could actually use this time constructively. In an

ordinary

sized house taking out the trash is a quick and easy job, but in this house it was more challenging. It involved making sure all the bins were empty and then taking the trash can all the way around the side of the house, through two gates and over some rather uneven terrain, onto the front drive ready to be emptied on Thursday morning.

I'm sure you're already bored with my tedious story about garbage, but trust me this is all relevant to the story and I will get to the point soon. After three or four weeks of performing my Wednesday night routine, I had mastered the intricate nuances of the Delaneys' yard and my mind started to wander during the trip. On this particular week I spent the time trying to work out which window that I was walking past corresponded to which room in the house. Obviously the first few windows were the kitchen, I could see in those. Then the next window, a single high up one intended only to let in a little light, was the utility room adjacent to the kitchen. Now it got a bit more challenging. The next window was curtained and the way the rooms and corridors were arranged in the house, it wasn't yet obvious which room was next to the utility room. I vaguely recalled there was a sort of study around this side of the house, so maybe that was it.

I was even more clueless about the following window. What other rooms were around this side of the house? The rarely-used front living room was but, as its name suggests, that was right at the front of the house so I couldn't be there yet. What was near the front room? I thought the room next to the living room was a spare bedroom. But that didn't add up, because that would be the

next

window, where I could see the light was on. There was no real reason for anybody to be in the spare bedroom at this time of night. Maybe this was the spare bedroom, but in that case what was the next room with the light on? Did the spare room have an

en suite

bathroom that someone was using?

I carried on walking while all this went through my head, so by this time my wheeled companion and I were already approaching the lit room. There were drawn curtains across the window rather than frosted glass, which suggested it wasn't a bathroom, so what was it? I stopped for a minute to think about it. Maybe the living room extended further than I thought. Maybe this

was

the spare bedroom and Liz's mom was cleaning it or something. I noticed that there was a small gap in the curtains, an inch or so wide, so I decided to resolve the question once and for all. I left the garbage bin behind, walked over to the window and took a quick peek through the gap in the curtains.

I was surprized with what I saw within. The room had a bed in it, but was

not

the spare bedroom. It was fully furnished and showed definite signs of habitation and...shit, this was

Anne's

room! This was fairly obvious from the girly clothes lying around, but the smoking gun was that Anne herself was sitting at her desk at the far end of the room. Although I wasn't in her line of sight, I quickly ducked away from the window. The last thing I needed right now was for Anne to see me peeking in her room and accusing me of spying on her. She said she was coming to bed a while ago, I wondered what she was still doing up.

I risked another peek into the room. I didn't really need to worry about being seen, Anne seemed totally focused on her computer. The screen was turned slightly away from the window so I couldn't see what she was looking at, probably just Facebook or something like that I supposed. I was just about to lose interest and continue my journey when Anne did the last thing I was expecting. She undid the button on her jeans and then gingerly slipped her right hand down inside her panties. While I didn't have a great view due to the arm of the chair, I could clearly see her hand moving around inside her panties as she continued to stare at the screen. Oh my god, she was masturbating!

I stood transfixed at the window, staring at the scene that was unfolding in front of me. I could see Anne's fingers moving in and out of her panties, presumably stroking her clit. It seemed a bit clumsy somehow. I had watched Liz masturbate over webcam before (when you're a long-distance couple you have to take what you can get) and her fingering seemed deft and controlled, almost graceful as she rubbed, stroked and massaged herself to orgasm. In comparison Anne's motion seemed awkward, forced and somewhat clumsy. Maybe women put on more of a show when they know someone is watching, or maybe Anne was just sexually inexperienced and had not mastered pleasuring herself to the extent Liz had. I wondered what she was looking at on the computer screen. I assumed some kind of porn, although from what I knew about Anne it could just as easily be topless pictures of some guy from Glee or something.

I continued to watch for a while and, somewhat to my dismay, found myself getting quite turned on. As I said before I wasn't attracted to Anne at all, as I couldn't see beyond her abhorrent personality. But while I couldn't see her pussy, or even any pubic hair, there was something about watching her young fingers slide in and out of her white cotton panties that I found very erotic. Somehow it was very naughty, but very innocent at the same time. I briefly wondered if Anne was a virgin. Probably not at her age, and with her looks, but in a small town like this it was possible I suppose. Suddenly she stopped her frantic fingering and pulled her hand out of her panties. To my delight I could see the light reflecting from the pussy juices on her fingertips. Whatever she was doing down there it was obviously working and it was also making my cock harden.

Anne started looking around her desk. Eventually she opened the drawer next to her and pulled out a biro. She gingerly slid it down her panties and moved it around experimentally, before taking it out again and tossing it onto the desk. She went back into the drawer again and pulled out something else. It was shaped like a lipstick container, but about twice the size and white in color. Was it a vibrator? No, it seemed too angular and it had writing on the side. Maybe it was some kind of glue stick or something. Whatever it was she slid it into her underwear and started using it on herself. Her hand was buried further into her panties this time as she tried her new technique. After a while I realized that she must be actually fucking herself with the glue stick. There was no doubt about it, her movements were no longer up and down as if stroking her clit, but forwards and backwards as if she was... well, thrusting something in and out of her pussy! I hoped she was keeping a firm grip on her improvised sex toy, because foreign objects stuck up the vagina make for embarrassing emergency room visits.

Her movements got faster and I started wondering if she was going to come right there and then, but eventually she stopped and took out the glue stick. She looked frustrated and started looking round her desk again. Clearly finding nothing to improve her self-gratification she stood up and started to walk over towards the window. I quickly ducked down and prayed she hadn't seen any movement. I held my breath as I crouched down below the window and tried to stay as still and quiet as possible. I could hear no noise coming from the room, but it must have been three or four minutes before I plucked up the courage to finally sneak another peak.

I wasn't prepared for the sight I saw. Anne's bed was just below the window and she was laying on it, her head literally only two feet away from where I was peeking through the curtains. I was relieved to see that her eyes were shut, but then I saw something that made me forget all about her eyes anyway. Anne had stripped off her jeans and panties and was lying on the bed completely naked from the waist down. Her legs were wide open and she was thrusting something in and out of her pussy. After four of five strokes I realized it was the handle of a hair brush. Wow, this girl was wanton! I took a few seconds to take in all the details of her pussy. Her pubic hair was a light brown color, not as blonde as her hair, but not the usual dark brown like Liz's and most of the other girls I had slept with. Also unlike Liz, the 'full triangle' had been left intact, and her pubic hair was quite long and untrimmed. I liked the full bush; it was something of a novelty these days in a world of bikini waxes, landing strips and Brazilians. Below I could make out her pussy lips, spreading eagerly to accommodate the invading plastic penis substitute. What an amazing sight!