Chapter II
Moving House
There are many things you can search for when looking for houses but "welcoming and rampantly kinky neighbours residing next door" is not one of them; they come by extremely good fortune and Erin and I were very lucky.
At the end of a leafy cul-de-sac were two houses: one was the original manor house that dominated the plot of land, and the other was a small property at the end of the small shared drive, that was originally an ancillary house for servants in decades past. Cheshire is full of these sorts of properties, and the four-bedroomed family home was ideal for our needs, especially as it was at a reduced price because the owners were keen for a quick sale.
The day after we moved into the house, we saw a saloon car pull alongside our neighbour's property and my wife and I took a break from unloading boxes to meet the couple whose drive we shared.
I wasn't sure what I expected from the owners of the manor house three times as big as my property. Bryn oozed warmth: a man as tall as me with short black hair a slightly receding hairline. I'd find out later that the scruffily dressed gentleman owned a company worth Β£5million and yet he looked just as normal as my wife and I.
He shook my hand, embraced Erin and welcomed us into his expansive home. Christina, his wife, was a short smiling bundle of energy. She hugged us both, pressing her warm body against our tired torsos and escorted us into the lounge. She dispatched her husband to the kitchen to prepare liquid refreshments for their guests.
I remember noticing that she was in great shape; the figure-hugging outfit exhibited her sexy figure and well-proportioned breasts. The blonde-haired woman suggested that her husband show me around their house and Christina took my wife into their garden with their glasses of chilled white wine.
Bryn said little about the family who we had bought the house from, but what few words he chose were less than complimentary. I felt a little uneasy as he suggested there had been an acrimonious disagreement but I found Bryn was welcoming and inoffensive.
"Baby, Erin and Peter have only moved in yesterday and they still haven't unpacked all their cooking stuff. Go and make tea for us all please." Christina barely looked up from her chat with my wife. Bryn smiled and nodded, and refused all offers of help so I joined the chattering women in their garden.
Their garden wasn't huge, but was secluded. It was shielded from the long gardens of the other houses in the cul-de-sac by tall hedges and I couldn't see a single house from my position on the grass. The two giggling women chatted conspiratorially and I didn't interrupt as I looked around the landscaped garden.
Instead my mind turned back to our hosts and their relationship. From the way she spoke to him, looked at him and he responded to her, was not that of a normal vanilla couple. I recognised the interactions between them as she barked with an air of dominance and command, and he did as he was told accordingly.
Those first couple of hours I warmed to the married couple: Bryn was passive and friendly and Christina was bubbly yet unyielding. Once she had ordered her husband to make dinner for us, there was nothing Erin and I could do to change her mind. We didn't want them to go to any trouble and our clothes were dusty and sweaty from our manual toil of moving furniture and unpacking goods for most of the day, but they just embraced their guests.