It was a lousy late October day. It was cold outside, grey clouds whipping across a rain-laden sky, the tops of the trees in the garden lashing against each other, shedding great dollops of leaves onto the sodden grass ......
Mike looked out of his front window, to the empty driveway next door. Gordon and June, his next-door neighbours, had gone off to spend the day with their younger daughter, Carol, and wouldn't be back until late.
Which was a bit of a bugger, he thought, his testicles tightening. It was now more than three months since he and June, after twenty-five years of platonic neighbourliness, had suddenly found their relationship on a new, and intensely exciting, footing. After that memorable day in June's 'guest' bedroom, they had contrived to 'get together' about three times a week for the most satisfying sex either of them had had for a good twenty years.
She really had a great body for her age, Mike thought, and he loved the way she was prepared to try anything to heighten their mutual enjoyment of each other. He shivered with pleasure at the recollection of her lips sliding down his shaft ......
Today would have been ideal for a short trip through the back garden, over the fence, and into June's kitchen. He imagined lying naked with her, under the duvet, watching the rain splatter against the bedroom window, while his hands fondled her naked firm breasts ......
His cock was rigid with desire, and he shook his head, to clear his mind. There was a bit of shopping to do. Maybe, if he did that during the bad weather, the rain might clear up and he could sweep up some of the fallen leaves, later. He sat down and began to write a list, and, after a little thought, put 'wine' at the top of it.
It was odd, how his 'fling' with June had kick-started his marital sex life back into gear, and Mary usually became receptive after a couple of glasses of dry white ...... Her tits were not as firm as they once been, but they were still soft and warm and she still enjoyed him sliding his cock between them, and licking his protruding corona ......
Christ, he thought, I'm more bloody obsessed with sex than I was forty years ago – well, almost!! Tearing his mind back to the job on hand, he forced himself to think of mundane matters – cheese, bread, potatoes ......
The doorbell rang. As he rose to answer it, he glanced out of the window. There was a car on the driveway next door, now. He didn't recognise it.
The indistinct shape of a female was outlined through the glass panel of the front door. He felt his pulse quickening. Good God, he thought, I'm becoming obsessive ...... He opened the door.
The woman smiled at him, and said – "Hello!" It took a few seconds before he recognised her.
"Alyson!" he exclaimed. "Hello! How are you? What are you doing here?"
Several thoughts were jumbled in his mind. How long had it been since he saw her – it must have been Carol's wedding – five – six – years ago? What was her husband's name? How old were her kids?
But, uppermost in his mind, was the clear memory of what June had said when he had first laid eyes on her shaven pussy, three months ago.
"The girls suggested it. They both do it – oh, I don't suppose I should tell you that ......" she had said, with a wicked smile.
And now, as he stared at June's elder daughter standing on his doorstep, smiling at him innocently, all Mike could think about was the (probably) hairless, long slit between her legs ......
Alyson was talking, but Mike hadn't taken in a word.
"Look," he said. "You'd better come in – your Mum and Dad are away – visiting Carol."
He stood back to let Alyson enter. He had forgotten how tall she was – almost as tall as himself. Unconsciously, he straightened up.
"Would you like a cup of coffee – or a glass of wine?" he offered, and she smiled.
"Wine would be lovely," she replied. "And how are you – and Mary? I hear you're retired, now. Are you enjoying it?"
"Oh, yes," he replied, opening a bottle of dry white. "Don't know where I found time for working, now." Images of how he spent some of his days flitted through his mind – for God's sake, he thought – pull yourself together!
"Will this be OK?" he asked, holding up the bottle.
"Yes - fine," answered the girl. 'Girl?' he thought. She was two years younger than his oldest son – that made her thirty-five! Well, that was a 'girl', by his standards ......
"So," he asked, pouring out two large glasses, and leading Alyson through into the sitting-room, "what brings you up here? Are you on your own?"
"Well," she replied, sitting down, and taking a sip of her wine. "I'm working, I suppose. I had a meeting in the city this morning, and it finished earlier than I thought, so I thought I'd pop in, on the off-chance that Mum might be at home. We don't often get up here, nowadays, now the kids are that bit older ......"
"What ages are they now?" Mike asked.
"Oh, Simon's 14 and Eleanor's 12," answered Alyson, sitting back and crossing her legs. She had very attractive legs, Mike realised – long and slim, in tan stockings, or tights. She looked very attractive, all round. She was wearing a neatly-tailored beige business suit, with a white blouse. Her hair was shoulder-length, auburn in colour, and her features well-defined. She had a 'handsome' face, Mike thought, rather than pretty, her brown eyes set wide apart either side of a straight nose, and her mouth tended to severity, except when she smiled, and her lips crinkled at the corners, revealing even white teeth.
"So I'm working full-time, again – and enjoying it," she continued. "I'm on the road quite a lot – travelling around. And how are your family? How's Stephen?"
Mike grinned a little to himself at the mention of his son. Alyson had nursed a youthful passion for Stephen, and Mike suspected it had never quite died ...... But her face didn't betray anything, and Mike updated her on the family gossip.
As they spoke, easily and companionably, his vision of Alyson as the little ten-year-old girl he had first encountered when they had moved here, twenty-five years ago, receded. She was a confident, capable woman, juggling a family, home and a career with apparent dexterity, like so many of her generation – and looking very good on it, as well.
He noticed her glass was empty, and refilled it.
"Do you see much more of Mum – and Dad – now – now that you're at home, more?" Alyson asked, suddenly, and Mike was a little taken aback.
"Well, a – a bit, I suppose," he stammered. "But not too much – we've never been sort of – 'in and out', really, as neighbours." Unfortunate choice of phrase, he thought, under the circumstances ......
"No, we're much the same as we always were," he continued. "The occasional chat – over the wall, you know."
"I just wondered," said Alyson. "You haven't noticed any – change – in them, then?"
"Well, no – not really," answered Mike, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, I'm not sure," she replied, her eyes on his face. "When I phone, it's almost always Mum I speak to, and she seems – different – recently. More – well, upbeat, I suppose. She's always been - well, a bit of a 'doormat', I've always thought. You know – more of less does what Dad says, without question, but, recently, I've been wondering if – well, maybe, the worm was turning ......"
Mike was beginning to feel uncomfortable. If June was sounding a bit more confident, these days, he had a shrewd idea why – but Alyson was not the person to confide in, on that one ...... Nevertheless, he had never thought of June as a 'doormat' himself, and he was intrigued ......
"I never actually saw your Mum as a 'doormat'," he ventured, and Alyson nodded her head, vigorously, interrupting him.
"No," she said. "It isn't obvious – outside. But, in the house, Dad definitely rules the roost. It took me along time to realise – I don't suppose it was really until I left home – but he's always putting her down – always attacking her self-esteem. I think that's why she never worked after we grew up, for example. It suited Dad to have her at home, running after him, so he convinced her she'd never cope with a job, and the house ......"
