Looking at his neighbour's house, Thatch couldn't help but feel concerned.
Dale and Emily had been nothing but wonderful neighbours since they'd moved in God knows how many years ago, always good for a smile and a chat whenever they happened to be outside at the same time. Except, when he'd seen them over the last two weeks neither of them had appeared to smile, hell, he wasn't sure Emily had left the house at all so, with not much else to do, he was worried.
In his mid-sixties and gratefully retired, Thatch remembered what it was like to be young and in love, which is why he had a twenty-four-year-old Chinese wife. Hey, he might not be young anymore, and the love might depend upon his stamina but she was a passionate lover, and despite the age gap both of them were happy with their marriage. Having reached sixty without any kids, Thatch had no plans to start having children now, something Jing was in complete agreement with. So before she'd even arrived on British shores he'd had the snip. No condoms, no kids, life was bloody great!
Not that there hadn't been times he'd once considered having kids, but something had always stopped him. Be it money, poor timing, the woman's husband or, on more than one occasion not even knowing the woman's name. There'd even be a few near misses, a lack of condom or over-excitement on his behest yet, as far as he was aware fate had decided he would remain childless, and in all honesty, it was no skin off his nose.
What would he prefer, travelling around the world and shagging hot birds, or changing nappies and dealing with temper tantrums? There was no contest.
In the here and now, however, seeing his neighbour's behaviour alter considerably was a cause of concern for Thatch and, having got to know them over the past few years he had an almost fatherly concern for them. So, being a cautious sort, he'd planned to pop around to see Emily while Dale was at work and, if there was no answer, he'd go round the house and check through the windows in case there was a visible body or a freshly dug hole in the garden, maybe a new patio.
Before he could leave the house, as he was dressing in his bedroom which overlooked the front of the neighbouring house Dale's car pulled up.
'Damn and blast,' he cursed, a frown upon his features, 'what am I supposed to do now?'
With Jing at the gym, as she made sure to keep busy in her free time, he had no one to discuss his concerns with. Would it be okay if he just headed over? Or did he ring the police and ask them to do a welfare check? Anyway, he didn't want to be away too long, wanting to be home when Jing returned. She always showered at home rather than the gym, and he enjoyed perving over his petite, sexy wife. Flat stomach and small breasts, not only did he enjoy the view he was also in with a chance of her shagging him straight after the gym. She was already sweaty, so why bother with two showers when one would suffice?
A shout pulled Thatch from his blissful reverie. As he focused on the noise that had come from next door he recognised it as Dale. Oh hell, was this at least confirmation Emily was alive? Or was it just more evidence their relationship had morphed from true love to something abusive?
Thatch finished dressing and, hand trembling with uncertainty, opened the front door, still unsure of his plan but knowing that he could not in good conscience do nothing.
To his relief, his feet shuffling slowly towards the house, another voice blared out, shouting as loudly if not more so than Dale's. It was Emily, definitely sounding alive. Due to a hearing problem caused by working in factories all his life without proper safety gear, Thatch was unable to hear the content of the shouting but did hear the door slam when it had ended. Great, both were still alive and no one was shouting for help, that sounded good to him.
Returning to his own house Thatch still felt uneasy about the whole situation. Even though he was happier than he had been, he still wanted to make certain that both of them were okay, so he resolved to keep an eye on them for the next few hours, just in case something happened.
What he hadn't bargained for was, upon the return of Jing from the gym, that she would strip off and, kneeling before him, undo his belt and take him fully within her mouth. He didn't have the largest cock in the world, about five inches, but Jing always said he was just the right partner for him, and seeing as he still occasionally had some trouble fitting his cock in any of her holes he was of a mind to believe her.
"You're happy to do... uh... this?" He asked, distracted by the attention being lathered upon him, yet not wanting to seem ungrateful, his partly still on next door.
"Uhuh," she spoke unintelligibly, her mouth taken up by roughly four inches of the average yet fat cock, yet a nod showed her intent.
"You wouldn't rather fuck, or have yours?"
"Nuh..." a shake of the head, followed by... "ghhhh..." as she briefly took that last extra inch of him down her throat.
"Ah! Well, if you insist..."
Looking down upon the beauty before him, Thatch immediately forgot about his neighbours and instead admired his stunning wife. He hated the jokes, the comments and the dismissive glances that came their way whenever he and Jing were out in public. He knew what they thought, but they couldn't have been more wrong.
Enjoying his wife taking him entirely into her mouth, Thatch soon began to feel a familiar sensation.
"Oh, Jing," he gasped," I'm gonna..."
Whipping him out of her mouth at some speed, Jing only had time to jerk him off once before, as warned, his balls emptied and his load shot across her stunning features, as well as her ant-bite breasts, not that Thatch considered them a negative. She was his wife, she was amazing and regularly made him cum hard. He'd have paid for breast implants if she'd wanted them, but neither of them was bothered. They looked good and did the job, that was enough for them.
Slumping hard from his orgasm, Jing smiled happily as she cleared semen off her lips.
"It definitely tastes better without the sperm," she joked, always the same joke, but in her broad Californian accent it always made Thatch laugh, as she'd been able to do from the day they met, both of them tourists in New York City.
Both single travellers, they'd booked the same tour of the 'Big Apple' and, being the only two without a companion had immediately paired off. It was fair to say that they'd hit it off instantly and, when the tour had ended they'd gone for dinner together. Jing had only four days their in comparison to Thatch's six, but they'd spent every day together and even the last two nights. For a man in his sixties, Thatch was amazed that such a young, virile woman found him attractive, but he didn't complain.
Upon returning to California, Jing had immediately proposed that she visit England, whereas Thatch had hit her with a counter. Why visit when she could move full-time? They'd visited Las Vegas together, got married in one of the classically tacky yet funny weddings, and Jing flew out of the country with him. Her parents, second-generation immigrants, didn't understand why she was in love with this old, white man, but her grandmother at eighty-six was just happy that she was happy, so if anyone else disproved about their relationship, well they didn't hear anything.
Showering together, with Jing's face clean of cum they kissed passionately. Honestly, he couldn't quite believe it sometimes, but he was happy to be in a happy marriage, just like...
"Oh, Christ, I forgot!" He blurted, his mind having immediately forgotten about their neighbours, "I was supposed to keep an eye on Dale and Emily's front door!"
Drying off, Jing eyed Thatch up with suspicion.
"This isn't some sexual thing is it? 'cause I hope I thought I'd just sorted that problem out."
"No, no," he insisted, "earlier, I heard them fight, a big fight, and I wanted to make sure they were both okay."
"I think that's sweet," Jing smiled proudly at her husband, who might be a bit of a klutz but he always meant well, "even if it's also a bit creepy. But," she admitted before Thatch could look hurt, "if you think it's the right thing to do, then do it."
"I'm glad you think so!" Jumping up, Thatch immediately went to sit by the front door, something he did often to watch the world go by, only for Jing to shout after him.
"Thatch! Clothes!"
Now dressed, Thatch grabbed the chair he kept by the front door although, unlike usual he refrained from taking out the chest cooler with him. Filled with ice and beer, it made a great summer evening just sitting out front and watching the world go by with a nice cold drink although, with a possible argumentative situation like this he considered that cooler heads would prevail, so decided it was best to abstain for this moment in time.
As he closed the front door behind him he immediately heard another door open. Bewildered, Thatch looked about like a meerkat, standing up straight to survey everywhere about him. Looking towards his neighbours he could see Emily gingerly shutting her door, suitcase in hand. Cripes, clearly things had got bad.
"Emily!" Thatch called over, causing the neighbours to flinch before looking in his direction, like a deer in headlights. To his surprise she ignored him, instead rushing to her car, practically throwing the suitcase into the passenger side before jumping in the driver's seat and, with a minor screech of the tyres, zoomed away up the street.
Stunned by the out-of-character behaviour, Thatch stared after her, only assuming that she was heading towards her mothers, as he remembered from one of their discussions over a few beers that she had been an only child and had little family, so probably lacked many options. He'd met her mother once on someone's birthday. She'd looked a bit mad with her long pink hair and, in her forties, she probably should have left the boob tubes behind many years before, but something about her had been annoyingly familiar, but with the approximately twenty years between them it was unlikely she'd been a school friend, so the mystery had continued.
With Emily's exit Thatch realised that he no longer needed to keep an eye on them both, but Dale was, presumably, still about and his mental health was in doubt. Either he was unstable or Emily was, and at the moment it was difficult to tell either way. Thatch wanted to stay outside and keep an eye out in case either Emily returned or Dale went after her, and this time he'd be prepared for unusual behaviour.
The problem was, he'd called out to speak to Emily, what if Dale had heard? Would he accept that it had been a general greeting, or even that he was just a concerned neighbour? And if he hadn't, would it look weird?
"Fuck it," Thatch announced to no one, "I might as well wait."
So wait he did, sitting in his chair, he tried not to stare directly at Dale and Emily's home, determined to act naturally, but found it difficult with what he'd witnessed, his nerves causing him to shift and fidget.
Eventually, he found what he considered to be a comfortable position and gazed out towards the road.
He didn't know how long it had been when, hearing a slam, Thatch opened his eyes. Bollocks, he'd fallen asleep. One of the many cons of being an old man, he could tell it had been some hours, sunset now apparent where previously it had been only a couple of hours past noon.
