The following encounter is taken from my journals.
After the adventures with Simon (see...), not much worth happened for a while worth writing about. I had the occasional sexual encounter but to be honest they were pretty awful pleasure wise. Tom and I continued to have sex once or twice a week; his staying power never got any better, but his tongue was his saviour in my pleasure, and there was always his good-looking cock. He still had no idea that I had cheated on him several times, and was actively looking to cheat still to try and fulfil my cravings. He never wanted for sex, and even benefited - he loved that I'd trimmed my bush, not quite fully shaven yet, but nice, and very tidy, leaving my pussy more exposed.
The next encounter worth telling you all about was in August 1994, a little before we moved out of our second-floor council maisonette and into a newly built housing association house! Although the house wasn't finished then, we were counting the days to when we could get into our front door without going up four flights of stairs.
About 3 months previously we got some new neighbours, a lady in her 50s and one of her sons (she had 3 in all). Our back balcony was joined to theirs, with a dividing metal grill separating us. I often liked to sit on our balcony if the weather was hot, with a cold drink; Eileen (the mother) was often out there too, so we would natter. Her live-in son was a bit of a recluse so I hardly ever saw him, but the other 2 sons would visit: one was always with his wife. The third, and eldest son Terry would often visit on his own without his current girlfriend, and would sit the balcony having a smoke. He was a rough kind of bloke, about 6ft tall, tattoos, smoked weed and couldn't say a sentence without the word 'fuck' in it. He was a cocky confident bloke, attractive in a way, who could talk for England. Being brought up in a more posh area of the city, I hadn't socialised with the likes of Terry - what I would call a rough type.
He used to flirt with me something rotten over the balcony grill, but with his mother not too far away, I laughed it off and told him to behave. He popped round his mother's most days, so I thought I would tease him a bit by making sure I had on a very short skirt, with my stockings of course, so if I bent over in my living room with the balcony door open he could catch a glimpse of my bum and stocking tops, I liked to wear a g-string so my bum was practically naked;. I did a lot of picking up things when I heard him on the balcony. This went on for a couple of weeks. After taking the kids to school and nursery I would put on my silk robe, which clung to my body. I would be naked underneath, my nipples poking out from the thin silky material. It worked, because whenever I ventured on to the balcony, he used to whisper to me that I was a cock tease and I wouldn't be doing that if he was alone with me. I just smiled, and chatted on about something else. All the time my cunt was tingling.
It was in the third week after I started my flashing game that things came to a head. I hadn't long been back from taking the kids to school and nursery when there was a knock on the door. I opened it, to find Terry standing there. I hadn't had time to slip into my robe, so I was still dressed.
"Thought I would come round and fucking wait 'till my mum got home; they must have gone to the fucking shops or something."
I looked at him, standing in the doorway; he stunk of weed. I had never been this close to him before, and he towered over me - quite intimidating.
"Your brother not home?" I asked.
"Well if he is, he's not fucking answering the door," he replied.
I stood there, not sure what to do. My eyes dropped to his crotch, then I spoke.
"You'd better come in then, want a coffee while you wait?"
"Great, could do with wetting my fucking lips with something hot," a huge grin on his face.
See what I mean though, every sentence had to have 'fuck' or 'fucking' in it!
I showed him into the lounge, and he sat on the sofa while I made the coffees in the kitchen. A few minutes later I returned with the drinks, finding him sprawled on the sofa. I handed him the coffee and sat down next to him. My skirt was short, but not the shorter one I would wear to tease him. Still though, a hint of stocking top was visible at the hemline. I didn't have my g-string on, just a thong, a black lacy one, which already felt wet.
It took him a whole minute to bring up the subject of me being a cock tease.
"You got that g-string on you fucking cock tease?" He didn't mess around, straight to the point, but that was Terry.
"I am not a cock tease Terry, I just like to wind you up," I smiled.
"Well Barb, I think you should do fucking something to make up for fucking winding me up." He put his hand on my knee, and. I didn't stop him. I knew what I wanted, and my cunt knew too, because it was wet, soaking in fact, like I'd pissed myself.
"Such as what Terry?"
His hand slowly edged its way up my legs, testing the water so to speak, and again I did nothing to stop him, in fact I slightly parted my legs to aid his journey. His fingers reached my wet gusset, pressing against it.
"You dirty fucker, you're fucking soaking," he roughly pulled my thong out of the way and shoved two fingers in. They felt big and rough, a worker's fingers and hands: he was a builder. I gasped and held on to him; it felt good, it felt naughty, it felt so hot and horny.
I reached to unzip him: I wanted to see what he had. "I want your cock."
