Everybody likes to feel that the house they live in, is their home. Mine is no different. I moved for some peace and quiet and for a space to run my business. Where are we? An isolated, semi detached former farm worker's cottage. Victorian red brick with two bedrooms. Big enough, as it is just me. Half a mile from the nearest village and five miles from our local town. What was the tipping factor? The previous owner had built an art studio, in the garden. Fully fitted out with electricity and plumbing, a basin and toilet. I'm not an artist. I was interested in turning it into a work out space. The first thing I did was add a shower.
I had better explain. My name is Josie. I joined the army at 18 and left after just over twenty years. I was a physical training instructor. I worked my way up the rank structure. This meant that when I left, I received a good lump sum and a reasonable pension. Not enough to live on but a good top up. I set up a personal training business. I also do some shifts as a lifeguard, at the local leisure centre.
I was able to choose where and how I lived. Not who I lived next door to. I had visited several times before buying. Nobody had been in next door. The property agents thought that two women lived there but couldn't confirm it. I assumed, that heavy metal fans wouldn't want to be this isolated. I hoped it would be quiet. In the army, you live cheek by jowl with loads of people. Now I had the choice, I sought peace.
The agents had been correct. My neighbours were two women, mother and daughter. They were not what I was expecting. I introduced myself as the removal men, shifted my stuff into the house. Chloe, the mother had grown up in south west London. Her parents were originally from Barbados. She had moved down, after getting a job with a pharmaceutical company, with offices in a local business park. At 40, a little younger than me. The daughter Amanda, had just finished sixth form and was taking a year out. She was weighing up going to university, or starting work. She had a job in shoe shop on Saturday. Another as a waitress in a cafe, two days a week.
Everything seemed normal, for the first few days. Chloe would head off to work each day at 8.30. Smart business suit and off in her blue sports car. Back at about 6 each evening. I talked over the fence to Amanda, if she was there during the day. On the Thursday of my first week, this all changed. I was in my studio, doing some stretching, after a client had left. Chloe strode out into the garden totally naked. I'm no prude. You get used to communal showers, toilet humour and all sorts of other things, in the army. I was still a bit shocked, to see it from my back garden. I don't think she saw me at first. She had a long tall glass in her hand. She walked down the garden, sipping as she went.
I stood up. The movement caught the corner of Chloe's eye and she turned to me and waved. Was she oblivious to her nudity, of did she just not care. I closed and locked the studio and walked over. There isn't much you can hide behind a chain link fence.
"Hi. Sorry if I shocked you. From what you told me when you moved in and what Amanda has told me, I guessed you wouldn't be shocked."
"Just a bit surprised. It doesn't bother me."
"Great. You wouldn't believe it. The little old lady who lived here, had the studio put in. She caught me out here one day and asked to paint me. She had never married. I think it excited her, seeing me naked but she never said so. I don't suppose it was the done thing in her day. The house has been empty for ages, so I just carried on."
"I suppose it suits you being out here in the middle of nowhere."
"Not entirely. Yes, I have the freedom to walk around like this. I like to party and it isn't great for that. You can't have everything."
"What does Amanda think?"
"That I'm too old to flash everything I've got."
"Looks good to me."
A brief description might help. She is above average height, a couple of inches taller than my 5' 6. Braided and beaded hair, maybe extensions, down to the middle of her back. Smooth brown skin. No signs of the sort of crows feet I have, round my eyes. Good sized breast, drooping slightly with really big areola and small nipples. Slightly round stomach and dark curly pubic hair. Her bum and thighs slightly chunky but not out of proportion.
Some comparison. I think she was wearing better than me. Life in the forces can be hard. I have short dark hair, almost a male short back and sides. A throwback to my army days. No breasts to speak of. Pectoral muscles with a bit of extra flesh and dark pink nipples. She could probably see them through my gym top. You will have probably seen the sort of bottom half of me, in most gyms. Women with well built calves and quads. A lot of them take supplements, steroids and maybe more. They end up with a package in their pants, most men would be proud of. In my case this is entirely natural, just a big clit. I used to try and hide it. Working out in baggy shorts, swimming costumes which disguised it. I don't bother anymore. I've met more women than men who were turned on by it. It was currently on show to Chloe, through my Lycra shorts.
"Likewise. You don't look to be wearing much more than me. I've got to go, Amanda is cooking dinner. Come for a drink tomorrow at 7. She replied"
On Friday, I only had a couple of clients, both had gone by 4. Amanda was sat on a garden chair drinking tea. I walked over to try and find out more. Both about Chloe and the previous occupant of my house.
I probably wasn't looking my best. Hot and sweaty. I think I'd only talked to her, when I'd been wearing outdoor clothes. She was definitely checking out the nipples and clit.
"How much do you know about the lady who lived here?"
"A fair bit. I know she painted mum in the nude. Mum wasn't the only one. I think she was fairly well known. She used to teach at the local college and had exhibitions. She only painted women. My room is the back one, up there. It looks down in to your studio. Sometimes when the models left she would stay there and stick her hand in her pants. She had to be 80."
"Good for her. I suppose I have to be careful if you are watching. Chloe says you aren't keen on her being naked."
"Its more than that. She doesn't have any shame. She strips off when she gets in from work. She'll sit around drinking vodka, no modesty, fanny in full view."
"I hope she's not expecting me to do that this evening."
"No, we've got snacks and drink in. She can behave, when she wants to."
"Not your thing getting naked?"
"Not really. I don't know where she gets that from. None of the rest of our family does it. Gran is baptist, really strict. I think mum just rebelled against it. She got pregnant with me just after graduating from university. No idea who my dad is. Gran was furious. We don't go back much. Christmas and birthdays is about it. The old lady asked me to pose. I turned her down. I did flash her my tits and ass a couple of times, from here and my bedroom."
"Maybe, I should be watching you. Got to go. I need to get out of this sweaty gear. See you at 7."
Oh well, more knowledge stored up. The previous resident an 80 year old, masturbating, closet lesbian.
As I may have mentioned. I'm no stranger to naked females. Some of my clients will just strip off and change in the studio. Others use the walled off bathroom. I'm guessing Amanda will get the odd eyeful. There is no real room for modesty, in the army. In basic and trade training I lived in a barrack room. Eight beds, each with a locker next to it. The toilets had doors but the showers just cubicles, without curtains. A lesbian or voyeurs dream existence. Back when I signed up, homosexuality wasn't allowed in the services. That isn't to say it there weren't any. I would say about 1/3 of all the women I met, were lesbian. Some of the other's dabbled. Having relationships, even heterosexual ones, wasn't easy. There were rules about no touching on camp and fraternisation between ranks. Sex within the barrack block was, for most, an easier option. The higher ranks just turned a blind eye. Some of the female officers were actually involved. With promotion came single rooms and more privacy. Not that sex didn't happen in the communal rooms.
I had my share of experience. Some good, some indifferent. Some male some female. My relationships are driven by personality and attraction, rather than sexual preference. My only serious affair, was later in my career. A mid ranking officer, which lasted a couple of years. Wrong on both counts, lesbian and between ranks. I was only a sergeant. She was amazingly pretty. She got posted overseas. That ended things. I decided at that point, to get on the housing ladder, as preparation for my discharge. So many of the people I served with, got to the end of their time, with nowhere to go. Where I was now, was my second house.
I showered and put on something comfortable. I'm not a dresses type. Trousers, shirt and slip on shoes. A quick rub with a towel to dry my hair. At least I smelled a lot better than I did, when I talked to Amanda. I picked up a bottle of red wine from the kitchen and went next door. I handed the bottle to Chloe as she led me to the lounge. A mirror image of my house. A lot more furniture, pictures and ornaments than in my place. You get use to not accumulating things in the army, as you move about so much. A variety of snacks were set out in bowls, on a low coffee table. She and Amanda looked like vodka was their thing. I went for the wine. Spirits give me a bad head.
"I gather Amanda gave you the full biography and a bit about Gertrude the painter."
