The High Wall

Lucy yawned and stretched her long arms straight out above her head. She looked up from her laptop to the antique carriage clock on the shelf opposite.

Half past eleven.

She had been writing for just over two hours. She clicked on her word count. 1623 today. Good enough.

She would write for an hour or two more in the late afternoon before Toby got home, but that meant she had three, maybe four hours entirely to herself before then.

Lucy relished this time. She loved being alone and unobserved and able to indulge in any little whim she chose.

She saved her work, shut the laptop lid and stood up, looking with a proud eye over the layout of what she called her writing den. It had been little more than a lean-to, propped up against the garden wall when they had brought it. But with the proceeds of her first book, and a little help from Toby's parents, she had been able to transform it into a very agreeable little space for her to write.

The polished floorboards felt reassuringly smooth and solid under her bare feet as she moved from behind her desk into the empty space in the middle of her den. She stretched her long limbs as she moved, her body lithe, her movements deliberate, poised like a ballerina.

She paused by the French windows that opened out onto the little courtyard that separated her den from the house. She slid the windows open and stepped out onto the rough cobblestones. The courtyard was warm in the May sunshine and surrounded on all sides by either the wall or the cottage. She had total privacy.

Stepping out of her den into the little courtyard that separated her den from the cottage, she felt the warm sun on her skin. She was only wearing a pair of loose jogging bottoms and an old vest top, but there was no one around and she once again relished her freedom to dress and behave anyway she liked. She hadn't felt the need to wear any underwear.

Four months of living like this and she certainly wasn't getting bored of it. In fact, it only got better as the weather improved. On the first really hot day, she had been brave enough to strip completely naked and sunbathe in the nude but today she just relished the feeling of her body in her loose fitting clothes.

Lucy stopped and stretched in the middle of the courtyard, wondering what to do first. Even though she had a pretty good routine by now, she didn't like to feel bound by it and liked to give herself the option to whatever she felt like.

In the end, she decided to go for a run, as she pretty much always did. The sun was hot but it was cool in the woods if she kept close to the estate wall.

The cottage was built close to the estate of a large stately home, which had a long high brick wall built all around it, whoever had built it clearly liked privacy as much as Lucy did. The wall actually also formed part of the edge of Toby and Lucy's own land and Lucy's writing den was built up against it.

The large house was still privately owned and the entrance was on the far side away from the cottage, so this whole area was very quiet and secluded. Lucy's run was all through public land but, in her four months of living here, she had never seen another soul.

So she didn't really feel the need to get changed. If she had thought there was any real chance of being seen, she might have at least put a bra on but she liked the way her boobs felt jiggling in her loose top as she ran. They weren't too big to be a problem and she never ran far enough to have an issue with chafing.

It made her feel sexy running barely more than half dressed through the sun dappled woods along the edge of the fields.

As always though, she found herself wondering about the other side of the wall as she pounded her path alongside it. Who lived there now? And what did they get up to in all that magnificent privacy?

Lucy liked to imagine wild, glamorous, debauched parties. Naughty goings on in gorgeous evening wear. Although her imagination did tend to take a knock once her body started complaining about the rigours she was putting it through and she had to concentrate on keeping up her willpower to keep going.

Nothing felt better than closing the front door of her cottage behind her, out of breath but glowing, and stripping her damp clothes off her body in the hallway and walking completely naked through her property.

Well, not much that felt better anyway.

Mostly she would shower but today, she felt like a bath. While the water was running, she stretched out her yoga mat on the landing and worked through her daily stretches, feeling the joy of a young, lithe healthy body free from the encumbrance of any clothing.

Having so much time and space to herself, she had learned to love the feeling of being naked and of being in touch with her own body. After she had turned the water off and finished her stretches, she sat cross legged on her yoga mat and just spent a few minutes quietly meditating.

Her meditation was only half-structured, based on what she could remember from a few Buddhist meditation classes that she had gone along to with one of her more hippy friends.

She closed her eyes and placed the palms of her hands on her knees. She would have liked to sit in the lotus position but she wasn't quite limber enough for that. She kept meaning to attend some proper classes but had somehow not quite around to it.

Lucy breathed in. She held her breath and counted to three. She felt the air enter into her lungs as she breathed in and the way her back arched as she did so. She couldn't help but think about the way her perky tits were thrust out as she did so and how much Toby would have liked to see her like that.

She noted the thought and let it go. She remembered that from the classes. When you were distracted by some random thought, you should just notice it and then let it go.

On the count of three, she breathed out again.

She repeated the exercise five times, each time noticing the feeling of her breasts rising and falling as she breathed in and out.

After that, she moved on to feeling her body in her space. She remembered this part of the classes very well. Concentrate on the toes in her left foot, just feel them there. Then concentrate on the sole of the foot, then the heel and the ankle and the shin and so on up each different part of the leg, just noting how it felt, becoming very aware of its place and presence.

After reaching the topmost part of her left thigh, she started again with the toes on her right foot. The idea was to treat each part of the body the same but she couldn't help but feeling a special warmth and even a little rising excitement, which was surely contrary to the exercise, at the thought of concentrating on the space between her thighs.

So when she reached the top of her right thigh, it was with some pleasure that she allowed herself a few lingering moments concentrating on the feeling of her warm pussy. She was wet already. She tried to note this fact and let it go but it was a good feeling and hard to just pass over.

It wasn't really meant to be sexy, meditating like this, she was sure. Certainly the rather earnest Budhists had always brushed over that part. But she had always found it a bit of a turn on and meditating naked could only accentuate that feeling. Her body was still warm from the run and the yoga, sweat was on her skin. She felt young and sexy and in tune with her body.

But she continued with her exercises, passed her attention up her back and over her shoulder blades, reached out across each arm and then up her neck and the back of her head, noting any tensed or bunched muscles and letting them relax.

Then she let her attention flow back down over the front of her body, feeling the presence of her breasts and how they rose and fell as she breathed, then over her tummy and her belly button and back down to the warm place between her legs.

She could never really remember what came next. The feeling of your body was only really a preparation for the next step she was sure, it was the proper deep meditation that came now but she could never really remember anything about that.

And the soft buzzing feeling in her pussy was giving her a warm, delicious centredness that was filling her with soft warm feelings but made deeper concentration quite difficult, no matter how much she tried to simply note the feeling and let it go.

She did a few more deep breaths and then opened her eyes, letting the room swim back into focus. The air was warm and still, there was distant rustle of wind and trees and the chirrup of birdsong from an open window but nothing else.

She stood up and stretched again, feeling a delicious warm sexiness that was a million miles from any kind of desperate horniness. It was the kind of sexiness that made her feel good and beautiful and powerful and in control.

The bath water was still warm as she sank into it. She was still in a semi-meditative state as she felt it caress her body, the bubbles covering over everything. She ran her hands through the water and the bubbles and then let her body float in the water while she rubbed the soapy water over her breasts.

Her breasts were a medium size but they were pert and firm and she was very pleased with them. She loved to have them touched and played with. Sometimes she would come just from having them kissed and licked and she always like to play with them when she masterbated.

She pushed them together and ran her thumbs over her erect nipples, just gently kneading them in the water. She tried to maintain what she could of her meditative state, concentrating on the delicious sense of presence and her body in the water.

Sometimes when she played with herself she would fantasise wildly. In many ways her business was selling fantasy anyway, even if her writing concentrated more on the romantic than the blatantly sexual, well for the most part, and sometimes she would think about having a hard man between her legs or kissing and touching her. Her imagination was very vivid and sometimes she could almost feel her imaginary love moving inside her as she came.

But when she touched herself like this, she tried to keep her attention solely on her own body. It was self indulgence of the purest sort really, feeling in tune with her own body and using her body to turn herself on and get herself off.

She was pinching her nipples hard now. It was almost painful but exquisitely so. She was so hot and turned on and she could feel the heat of her pussy in the water just begging to be touched.

Lucy loved fucking Toby and had no real desire for anyone else but she had to admit he very rarely made her feel quite this good. He was a thoughtful and considerate lover but he was a little too gentle with her sometimes and she always had more than half a mind on pleasing him, so she could never really let herself go as she did when she touched herself.

At last she couldn't take it anymore and placed both hands between her legs. One hand rubbed up against her clit and with the other she slide two fingers deep inside herself.

"Oh fuck, baby," she moaned in her pleasure as she finger fucked herself, first slowly, but then harder and harder. She kept the pressure against her clit light and gentle so that it was getting just enough stimulation to make her come but so that the main sensation was of her fingers inside herself.

"Oh baby, yeah," she called out, addressing herself as much as anyone else.

She could feel herself so close now but with great self-control she slowed the rhythm of her fingers to a slow steady pace, sliding all the way out and then as deep as she could go, just riding that feeling for as long as she was able until it burst out from inside her.

She arched her back in absolute delight, her soapy tits breaking entirely free of the water as with shaking thighs she came in a passionate, gushing orgasm into her own hands.

God, that felt good.

Keeping her hands between her legs until the feeling had entirely subsided she sank back into the water feeling limp and spent and satisfied. For maybe twenty minutes she just lay there luxuriating in the water in a dreamy drowsy state, not really thinking about anything but just feeling entirely peaceful.

Eventually she felt the water start to cool. It was tempting to run more hot water and luxuriate for longer but she decided she had been there long enough. She stood up deliberately and let the water stream off her taut, firm body and wrapping a spa style towel dressing gown around her and another towel over her wet hair.

Leaving the bathroom, she ignored the wet footprints she was leaving in the carpet and made her way to the bedroom. She pulled the curtains most of the way shut, not to keep out prying eyes, there were none, but to make the room darker. She then set an alarm for twenty minutes and lay down on the bed for a delicious little nap.

Twenty minutes was just long enough to let her mind and body rest without falling into a deeper sleep that would have left her sluggish. Her mind drifted through light dreams before she woke naturally just before the alarm went off.

She stretched her body out on the sheets before swinging her legs over the side and stretching again, her arms held out straight above her head. There was still a suggestion of a dull ache in her legs from her run but nothing more.

Still naked apart from the dressing gown, Lucy made her way downstairs and had a little light lunch, just a salad and a slice of sourdough bread with butter. She liked to keep her diet simple and homemade as much as possible. The bread was artisanal from a local bakery and was delicious enough not to need anything more than butter to go with it.

After she had eaten and washed up the plates, she made herself a cup of Earl Grey and sat at the kitchen table savouring it's flavour. The kitchen had stone flagging flooring and the table was ancient oak, bearing the marks of previous generations' lives. It made her feel solid and centred to be able to sit like this in the middle of the afternoon. She really couldn't believe her luck.

The funny cat clock on the wall, a recent holiday purchase, told her it was just about half past two. It should have felt decadent to be still undressed at this hour but it just felt right instead. After all, she was on schedule with her work and everything was as at it should be.

Toby wouldn't be home before six thirty. That gave her another four hours to herself. Time to get dressed, do a bit more work and then start getting ready for dinner. She liked Toby to have something hot when he came home.

Working in the afternoon wasn't a given. She had made a commitment to herself to be at her desk from 8.30 to 11.30 every morning and to write at least a thousand words in that time. Not every word of that was publishable but that added up to a book a year, which was enough for her publisher.

That gave her the afternoons to herself. Sometimes she would drive into the village and buy some little bits for dinner but she had enough in right now. There might be little bits of admin to do or household chores, although a cleaner on Tuesday morning did all the heavy lifting there, including the laundry.

So, if she had nothing else to do she would often return to her laptop for an hour or two. After all, she still loved writing so it was hardly a chore. She found the afternoon writing useful in a different way to the morning.

Sometimes she would write in the same way but, not having to worry about a word count, she could work more on plot and structure, writing notes and backstories that wouldn't make it into the book but helped give consistency.

Before that though, she needed to get dressed.

She walked back upstairs and hung the damp dressing gown on the back of the bathroom door and walked naked again to her dressing room. It was the spare room really but she used it as her personal dressing room most of the time.

Opening a drawer, she surveyed her extensive lingerie collection. Since making a little money, she had rather got into the habit of buying lots of expensive underwear. She liked to please Toby in it but mostly she bought it for herself, liked the way it made her feel sexy and glamorous and just a little bit decadent.

Although she had a range of different things, Toby's tastes was classic and old fashioned. Black lace and stockings and suspenders. She liked to dress for herself but she liked to please as well, so decided that today would be a day to treat him a little.

She looked at her body in the mirror in the black, revealing underwear. Her long legs were very well set off by the stockings. She pictured herself later that night, sliding down her knickers and wrapping her stockinged legs around Toby's head as he made her feel so very good.

It was a pleasant and delicious thought.

But that was for later. For now, she put on a white '50s style dress with black polka dots, trim at the waist and flared at the hips.

She put a bandana in her chestnut hair like a rockabilly girl and put bright red lipstick on. She liked to rock the '50s look, like a sexy housewife, even though she made much more money than Toby at the moment.

Once she was finally happy with her outfit, the whole thing took about an hour, she made her way back down to her writer's den. The look was slightly ruined by the slippers she wore across the courtyard but she had a pair of red heels she would wear for when Toby got home.

Lucy made herself a cup of coffee and turned her laptop on. She loaded up her work and read back over what she had written that morning, making a few corrections here and there.

There was one key paragraph she wasn't quite happy with that she thought might need some more extensive polishing. She was just pondering where to begin with it when she heard a low moaning sound.

It was quiet, but it was pretty unmistakable as the sound of a woman in sexual pleasure.

What the fuck?

There shouldn't have been anybody anywhere close.

At first she wondered if it was coming from the laptop. She knew Toby watched porn sometimes. He didn't know she knew, but she did.

Sometimes, she would even flick through his collection, plugging in the hard drive he thought he'd kept hidden. She was generally pleased at his taste, sensual and consensual and romantically shot.

Sometimes she would just flick through to check what he was watching but sometimes she would find something she liked and watch it until she was so wet she just had to get herself off.

Had she somehow copied something onto her laptop and was playing it now? It didn't look like that. The only file open was the Word doc she was working on. She didn't have WiFi in her den, too distracting, so it couldn't be the Internet either.

The moaning continued. Still low but quite unmistakable.

Lucy closed the laptop lid and moved silently from her desk, somehow not wanting to give her presence away even though she had every right to be where she was in her own home.

She stood, taut and poised in the middle of the room, trying to locate the source of the noise and ignore how turned on it was making her feel.

It was difficult to locate the source of the sound, even though it was louder now and more insistent. But it seemed to be coming from all around.

She took a step towards the French windows and noiselessly slid them open. Poking her head outside the sound fell off sharply. It clearly wasn't coming from out here.

Stepping back into her den, the moans were clearly audible again. Lucy definitely felt freaked out by it. It seemed pretty clear that she was in close proximity to some strange woman getting herself off, or being got off by someone else.

That just didn't seem possible though. Lucy ought to be very much alone and she didn't quite discount that it was some sort of recording, although she was pretty sure that it wasn't.