Everybody Needs Good Neighbours 1

Author's introduction. I'm sure that most people are familiar with the Australian soap opera. This story is nothing like that. It came about after I was contacted by Dalton (a follower) who suggested an outline for a story containing kinks he enjoys. I must emphasise that all participants are well over eighteen years of age, and every sexual act described is entered into consensually. Please enjoy my tale and consider leaving a comment when you've finished reading. Thanks again to Dalton for his suggestions which led to this story.

Everybody has secrets, right? Right. I certainly have more than one, and I happen to know that the two other residents of Ramsey Street both have their own dirty little secret. But in the spirit of openness, let me allow my readers to know my own secret first.

My name is Olwen. I'm fifty two years of age, and I am a Hot Wife. My cuckold husband Richard is four years older than me, and we both adore the lifestyle that we have lived for nearly twenty nine years of the thirty one that we have been married. We are very happy, living in Ramsey Street.

The only drawback is that the walls between all three houses are particularly thin. It is frequently possible to hear what is going on next door, so Richard and I restrict our more physical activities to a special club that we both go to most weekends. And I ensure that if a boyfriend comes home to fuck me, Richard is not allowed to make any noise at all, thus maintaining the pretence that it is my husband who is pleasuring me

So now that you know my secret, allow me to let you in on the secret of Miss Edith Skinner, who lives next door up to me in number one, and that of Rev. Horace Adams, who lives next door down, in number three.

Edith is a lush. Despite giving herself airs and graces, and looking down on almost everybody in our town from her exalted position as a Magistrate, Edith loves a drink. Gin is her favourite tipple in the house, but I am reliably informed that when sitting in judgement in Court, her 'water' flask is in fact full of vodka.

Rev. Horace doesn't drink. He regards alcohol as Beelzebub's Beverage, and a sin, as he frequently calls it from his pulpit. What he doesn't regard as a sin though, is to leave his house via the back door every night, walk down the lane behind Ramsey Street, and go and visit Edith. His wife is totally oblivious to his nocturnal adventures. She is totally dominated by him, and thinks that he is going to church to pray for a couple of hours each night.

Having made his way to Edith's garden gate, and been captured on our CCTV camera, Horace enters via her back door (NO! I am not talking about anal sex here!) and he and Edith indulge in spanking sessions.

On Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Edith spanks Horace, and on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, the roles are reversed and Horace spanks Edith. Sunday is, of course a Day of Prayer, when the pair of them attend church and spend half their time on their knees confessing their sins, and the other half decrying the terrible sins of the ungodly, like me, who don't darken their church door. Fucking hypocrites!

So now that I have laid out the secrets of all of the residents of Ramsey Street, let us get to the two incidents which totally changed the make-up of our little community of three houses.

It seems that Horace was spotted going into Edith's garden one night by a man who was also conducting an extra-marital affair. There are a couple of things about this man that are relevant to this tale.

The first is that the woman he was fucking had a thing about outdoor sex. The potential danger of being caught turned her from a timid secretary by day into an insatiable nymphomaniac by night.

The second thing was that the man who was fucking her had, at some point in the past, been brought before Magistrate Edith, and she had humiliated him before giving him a fine and warning him that he faced prison if he ever came before her again.

Thus, fate decreed that Edith and Horace's secret was discovered by a photo journalist who bore a grudge. It seems that a tree in the lane behind Edith's house gave an excellent view into the upstairs room where our two spanking devotees got their kicks (or should that be slaps?!!!)

When the very explicit photographs began to turn up all over town - left in the reading room of the public library, sent anonymously to the Clerk of the Magistrates' Court as well as to Mrs. Pamela Adams, and the two church wardens of Rev. Horace's church - three things happened.

The Magistrates' Clerk informed the authorities (but not before showing all the photos to everybody on her staff. Edith wasn't popular.) who then removed Edith from the Bench, on the grounds that she had acted in a manner unbecoming to her profession. Edith put Number One on the market and did a midnight flit.

The Church authorities tut-tutted a bit and informed Rev. Horace that he was to be moved to a new Parish, "to make a new start." That would have seemed to be that, except that Pamela suddenly found the confidence to tell her husband exactly what she thought of him.

We heard it all through the thin walls, and we certainly heard the front door slam after Pamela had packed a suitcase and left Horace to go and live with her sister in Australia.

So it was that over the course of a couple of weeks, my cuckold and I found ourselves as the only residents of Ramsey Street.

But that didn't last, of course.

First of all, a young man by the name of Alec came to live in number three. The church still owned it, so they installed Alec, who was training to be an accountant. He was on a church-sponsored scholarship, he told us when he called round to introduce himself, and he intended to work for the diocese when he qualified.

When he'd gone, Richard and I looked at each other.

"Submissive" we both said together and we both laughed.

The following Friday I took Richard to the club. I was definitely seeking because I hadn't been fucked in ages, and pegging Richard just wasn't the same as being stretched and filled with a real cock.

We go to the club dressed in our everyday clothes and use the changing rooms to put on (or take off in Richard's case!) our fetish wear. That evening I took Richard into the main lounge wearing a five buckle under bust corset which showed my tits off perfectly. I'd shaved before I left the house, so my cunt was smooth and pink, and contrasted beautifully with my lace topped black hold-up stockings. I looked the part of a predatory woman seeking cock.

Richard was naked save for his chastity device and his cuckold collar. I had him on a short lead and I led him up to the bar area.

"Is he available?" asked a very hairy leather clad biker type. "My bitch is late arriving and my cock needs sucking." To my disappointment, he didn't give me a second glance.

"Sorry," I smiled. "We've just arrived and I need a drink. Then this one will be on cunt worship duty. I plan to get myself fucked this evening, so I want my cunt wet and ready to go at a moment's notice."

"Pity," he replied. "Your cuckold looks like a good cock sucker. I'd offer to fuck you, but I don't play with females, I'm sorry. I only fuck sissies."

He turned as he felt a tap on his shoulder. A tall thin man, hideously made up in the most over-the-top fashion, and wearing the most inappropriate floral patterned dress stood there.

"Sorry I'm late, Basil" he said with a smile. "The wife had a meltdown when I told her I had to go back to work this evening. I had to drop her off at her sister's because she didn't want to spend Friday evening alone. Then I had to go back home to dress for you."

"Well, you're here now," said Basil gruffly. "Let's get you a drink and then we can go and sit down and you can suck my cock. Nice lipstick, by the way. You make sure that you leave lots of it on my cock."

They strolled off hand-in-hand, and Richard rolled his eyes at me.

"Thanks," he muttered. "You know I'll suck cock for you, but all that leather and hair? Yuck!"

It was a disastrous night. Following our encounter with Basil and his 'gurlfriend' it transposed that the club had been taken over for an evening of gay male, sissy and transvestite play. Don't get me wrong. I don't have a homophobic bone in my body. How could I? I'm bi-sexual myself. But my search for a nice long, thick cock was fruitless that night, and Richard and I went home early, and I took him to bed and pegged him.

Saturday dawned sunny and warm. After breakfast, I supervised Richard's clothing as he dressed, and then I sent him off to do the weekend shopping. I decided to make the most of the glorious sunshine, and I put on a one piece swim suit, slathered myself in sun cream, and took my book out into the garden.

We have a south-facing patio, and I was soon getting a lovely tan as I sat in the sun and read. When Richard came home, hot and sweaty from his shopping expedition, he brought me out a cool drink, and went to put the shopping away.

"You may come and join me when you've finished," I told him. "Bring my pipe and tobacco when you come. I'll smoke for you, seeing as how you've been such a good boy this morning."

Richard has a huge smoking fetish. He got me started smoking, and these days I pander to his fetish often. I smoke cigars most days, but my favourite is my dainty lady churchwarden pipe. Richard loves to see me smoking that, and it gives him as much of a hard-on as he can manage whilst wearing his chastity device.

Eventually, he came out into the garden, bringing my pipe and tobacco as I'd asked. He sat down on the patio and watched me stuffing my favourite aromatic tobacco into the dainty bowl. I grinned as he squirmed and tried to adjust his cock lock.

I slipped the slender stem between my lips and clenched. Sparking up my lighter, I set fire to my tobacco and sucked. It caught and I puffed it into life, ensuring that it was burning equally. I tamped the tobacco down, and settled down to enjoy both my smoke and taunting Richard.

"Would you like another glass of lemonade?" Richard asked in a hoarse voice.

"That would be lovely," I answered, through a cloud of aromatic smoke.

Richard got to his feet, wincing as he did so. He took my glass and started to go back to the house.

"No rubbing yourself against the cupboards," I warned. "In fact, don't even touch yourself. If I find you've been fiddling, I'll postpone your milking for another week."

Richard isn't permitted to penetrate me with his little boi clit, as I call his cock. It wouldn't give me any pleasure anyway, because it is so small. But we both take our roles seriously within the lifestyle we have adopted. As a Hot Wife, I get to fuck whoever takes my fancy, and as my cuckold, Richard is denied all forms of sexual pleasure.

I do milk him every week, unless he's displeased me, and I feed him cream pie when I've been fucked. If my boyfriend likes the idea of having his cock sucked or cleaned up by my cuckold, then Richard performs this service. That really is all the sex activity he gets, other than being pegged regularly, and kept in chastity, of course.

I smoked and sun bathed whilst I waited for Richard to bring me my fresh drink. I became aware of something at the periphery of my vision, and I turned my head slightly to see what it was that had caught my attention.

I had a hell of a shock. Standing in full view in the upstairs back bedroom window next door was Alec. He was fully dressed, but he'd taken his cock out of his trousers, and was stroking it as he watched me smoke.

As I was wearing sunglasses, he probably wasn't aware that I was watching him watching me. I slipped my pipe back into my mouth and used my free hand to rub between my legs. Alec's mouth gaped, and he started to stroke faster.

At that moment, Richard returned, carrying my refreshed glass of lemonade. He said nothing as I continued to rub between my legs, as he put the glass down on the patio at the side of my sun lounger.

"Don't turn around. Just do exactly as I say," I muttered, keeping my eyes on the sight of Alec frantically wanking in his upstairs bedroom.

"Go and knock next door. When Alec answers, tell him I wish to see him immediately. Don't ask why. Just do it!"

Richard is used to obeying instructions. He hurried off, and just to keep Alec's attention, I pulled the gusset of my swimsuit to one side, exposing my cunt lips. I slipped a finger inside myself and found my sleepy clit. She woke up at my touch and started to emerge from her protective hood.

At that moment, Alec seemed to jump. He let go of his cock, which continued to bob up and down. Richard's knocking on the front door must have broken his concentration. He hesitated, then gripped his cock once more. He was going to ignore whoever was at the front door.

That didn't fit my plan at all. Reluctantly, I extracted my finger and pushed my swimsuit back into place. I sat up and sipped my drink. Richard must have knocked again, because Alec hurriedly tucked his cock back into his trousers and disappeared from my sight.

I sipped my drink and puffed my pipe, and eventually Richard re-appeared, leading Alec across the lawn to the patio, where I was waiting.

"I've brought..."

"Be quiet!" I snapped. "Go into the house until I summon you."

Alec looked amazed as Richard instantly turned around and went back whence he had come. I smiled at him and took off my sunglasses.

"You've been a busy little boy this morning," I began. "Did you cum before you answered the door?"

Alec blushed.

"You saw?" he said hoarsely. "You saw me touching myself?"

"Of course I did," I replied. "I don't know whether to be flattered at the attention, or disgusted at the insult."

"Oh, Olwen, I would never insult you," he protested. "I think you're magnificent!"

I got up from my sun lounger, and pointed to my glass.

"Pick that up and follow me," I said, clamping my pipe between my lips and stalking off into the house. Alec scurried meekly after me.

I went into the middle room, calling for Richard as I did. He came into the room, and immediately knelt down at the side of the armchair where I was sitting. Alec remained standing.

"You must have realised that Richard and I don't practice a conventional marriage " I began, looking at Alec.

"He is what is known as a cuckold. Have you heard that term before?"

Alec grinned and nodded.

"I control his cock," I continued, clicking my fingers at Richard.

"Display, cucky," I said softly.

Richard got to his feet and undid the button on his trousers. He unzipped and tugged them down, showing no concern as the sheer silk pink panties I had put out for him earlier came into view. He pulled them down too, revealing his pink silicon chastity device, which bobbed up and down. Richard was obviously as hard as he could get whilst wearing his cock lock, which I should inform you, dear reader, wasn't particularly hard at all. It is a very small cock lock!

Alec rubbed himself as he looked. I slapped his hand away.

"I have neither the time, nor the inclination to take on a submissive at the moment," I informed him. "But if you think I'm happy with the knowledge that my neighbour practices his disgusting perversions whilst living next door to me, then you can think again."

"You have a choice," I informed him. "You either allow me to cock lock you like I have done with my cuckold, or you live with the consequences when I inform the church authorities that they are renting their property out to a serial wanker!"

Alec gulped audibly, and Richard smirked, which annoyed me.

"I have no choice," Alec wailed. "I know that I'm weak and pathetic. When I saw you smoking earlier, I thought that I would burst. My little pee-pee got hard instantly and I had to attend to it."

"How often does your cock get hard?" I asked. "Don't ever refer to it as a pee-pee in my hearing again," I continued.

"I touch myself every morning," Alec confessed, "but I never go all the way. Self-abuse is a mortal sin, so I always stop when I feel that I am about to spurt."

" I do have the occasional accident," he continued, "especially when I have naughty dreams. But I never bring myself off intentionally."

He stopped and looked at me, his face burning with embarrassment.

I looked at Richard.

"Isn't today your milking day?" I asked with a mischievous smile on my face.

"Yes, dear," he grinned.

"Wait here," I said getting to my feet. "By the time I get back, I want the pair of you naked, and in the greeting position. Cucky, show Alec-the-wanker how to adopt the correct position."

I walked out slowly and went up to my bedroom.

Taking my toy box out from under the bed, I selected my favourite leather harness. I took off my bathing costume and strapped the harness on. Then I slid Richard's milking dildo into place.

It is long, thick and ribbed. It stimulates his prostate when I'm pegging him and brings him to a ruined orgasm. I was going to milk him in front of Alec, and then I was going to do the same to my young neighbour, and empty his ball sac via prostate massage.

I returned to the middle room to find both Richard and Alec kneeling on the wooden floor, legs apart and hands open, palms upwards on their respective thighs. Both were naked, and both had their gaze averted to the floor. I nodded approvingly.

"Head up, Alec-the-wanker," I instructed, and he raised his head. His eyes widened with shock as he took in both my strap-on and my nudity. His cock twitched.

He was bigger than Richard, but then again, who isn't. But to my experienced eye, he wasn't much longer than about four inches, and he was pathetically thin too. I sneered at him.

"Watch and learn, wanker," I told him. I clicked my finger at Richard. His head came up and looked at me.

"You know what to do," I said softly. "Go and get your bowl and we'll begin."

Richard got to his feet and went out to the kitchen, returning moments later with the glass bowl we use to catch his cum when I milk him. He placed it on the seat of the armchair and bent over, resting his hands on the arms of the chair.

I took the key to his chastity device off the anklet that I wear constantly and unlocked him. As I slid the silicon sheath off his little boi clit, it twitched and got that little bit harder. His tiny mushroom head glistened with pre-cum.

I handed the silicon sheath to Alec, who took it, blushing furiously.

"Get used to it, wanker, because you're going to be wearing one of those from today," I told him with a cruel smile. His cock twitched, but he said nothing.

I turned my attention back to Richard. When he felt my strap-on rub up against his arse slit, he balanced his elbows on the arms of the chair and reached around and pulled his arse cheeks apart.

When I first started pegging him, we spent a fortune on lube, but Richard's arsehole has been pegged so often that these days, I go in dry and his homemade lubrication kicks in pretty soon.

I held my cock steady and pushed the pimpled tip up against his puckered star. It began to open and I gently eased my way in. The ribbed surface of my dildo immediately started to stimulate Richard and his cock twitched.

"You make a mess on my armchair and you won't be milked again this side of Christmas," I warned him, and he grunted in pain as I slid all the way in.

"Clench," I instructed, and I felt him bear down on my thick rubber cock. I began to fuck him.

Sometimes I milk my cuckold using my finger to stimulate his prostate, but today I wanted to show my neighbour just how much power I had over my cuckold. Also, Richard enjoys humiliation, so to be seen being fucked up the arse by his Hot Wife whilst the young man next door looked on, was a big thrill for him.

Whilst it never takes very long to get Richard's flow started, milking to a ruined orgasm in this way does take quite a while. This is because the cuckold being milked oozes rather than spurts. As his flow began, Richard is allowed to hold his little boi clit and catch all of his cum in the glass bowl beneath him.