Windows B. 01

The windows stories are set in the late sixties or early seventies. For some reason I find myself drawn to that era even though it was way before I was born. In those times attitudes towards women like openly leering, whistling at, or making suggestive comments, was just part of the norm. I have researched a lot for this, and watched the odd English sitcom from that time. The guys who starred in the show I wouldn't fancy, they seemed older and in some cases ugly. They got to kiss and grope pretty girls, who they are supposed to be dating. I'm sure in real life the girls would a run a mile, having someone with their looks groping them, and kissing them full on, like they do in the shows. The windows stories are sexist, with most of the males viewing women as sex objects. From what I've read, been told, and seen on the telly, not everything I've written is over the top.

I'd like to thank a couple of guys who both wish to remain nameless, for their insight, and experiences of fancying their mother's friend, or an aunt. Without them and a few experiences that I went through with a nephew and neighbour's son, I wouldn't have got round to writing this.

Enjoy

Sylvia

The first window

I'm watching the people moving in a few doors down. There's a guy and a woman, but no kids. The woman has her back to me so I haven't seen her face yet, she's wearing a mini skirt in brown leather or maybe suede. She's got nice long legs.

I can feel a stirring, which happens when I see women sometimes. Her husband looks older than her, so her face is probably like the back end of a bus. The two men unloading the boxes have stopped and are nudging each other. They seem to be making rude gestures behind the woman's back.

Her long black hair shines in the sunlight. She bends to pick up a bedside lamp. One of the men bends a little looking at her ass, or even up her skirt.

"Steve tea is ready," my mum calls up the stairs.

I'm about to reply when the woman turns round. For the first time I see her face, and I whimper, I actually make a noise, and my heart beat quickens all at the same time. She's beautiful.

"What you staring at love?"

"Oh um, new people are moving in."

My mum moves next to me at my bedroom window.

"Oh yeah, come on tea is ready."

I watch the woman go out of sight, and follow my mum down the stairs.

I picture the woman all through eating my tea, the way the men made rude gestures behind her back, and those long legs of hers. I can feel my erection in my trousers as I daydream about the new neighbour.

The second window

Morris and I are stood in his shop, watching the people moving in up the road.

"I've had the heads up from Martha; she works in the housing department, and lets me know when people are moving in to a house. Hopefully the guy will want some work done, so it is time I introduced myself."

"That's all they will need, you pestering them as they move in," Morris mumbles.

"Well that's a bit of alright Morris, it must be the wife," I say, giving him a grin.

She climbs down out of the van, and follows her husband up the path. They go in the house, and two minutes later the husband comes out.

I watch Tim get out of his van. What Tim assumes is the wife comes back out of the house, bends down, and picks up a box. I watch as one of the men bends slightly looking up her skirt. Not that he needs to bend too far; the suede skirt is short, like young women wear these days. I lean on my brush, watching the raven haired woman carry the box to her door and go in. Hopefully she will be using my corner shop, and not the new large department store that has lured away many of my customers.

"Good afternoon, just moving in?"

He turns and looks at me, and then smiles.

"My name is Tim I do odd jobs around here, anything you want doing just give me a call, my number is on a card in the shop window down there."

He looks down towards the local shop where Morris is sweeping the dust out of the doorway.

"Great, I'm not sure what yet, but I expect something will crop up."

"Well, then I'm your man, what do you do?"

"I work on the new oil rigs off the coats of Scotland."

I rub my chin.

"That's a long way, up the other end of the country. Anyway I'll leave you in peace, anything you want doing, let me know?"

"Yeah, thanks."

The first window

"Where are you going mum?"

"Only down the street, I'm going to welcome our new neighbours, it's been three days since they moved in," she says, showing me the cake she has made.

"Can I come?"

"Why would you want to come with me?"

Fuck I'm stumped. Why would I want to, think!

"Well they could have kids my age."

"I haven't seen any."

God mum just accept I want to come, the more you make a big deal out of it, the more stupid I'll look.

"I won't be a minute honestly, besides lost in space is on, you like that."

I knew this would go like it is. I just want to see her up close, and all of a sudden it's a big deal.

I'm sat watching lost in space, while my mum is down the road in her house, talking to her.

"Oh hi, is your mum in? I'm returning her cake tin from two days ago. You must be Steve, right?"

Shit she knows my name! Okay she would because mum would have told her my name.

"Yeah, she's in the kitchen."

Our new neighbour walks past me and I get a waft of perfume. I watch her red dress sway round her hips, its bright red with gold buttons up the front. It's short too, showing off her thighs, she's wearing tights, tan ones, with black high heels.

Hi, she calls round the kitchen door, and I'm left holding the front door open like some spare part. She's even prettier close up, no wonder those men were trying to look up her skirt when she arrived a few days ago. I close the front door and look in the mirror at my red face. My heart is jumping around, like I've been running for days. My nose finally loses the smell of her perfume.

I go in the lounge and sit in the chair with my feet up to the side, and a cushion over my lap to hide what won't go down. I can hear them talking through the closed door. Her voice sounds soft, and although I don't know, or don't care, what she is talking about with my mum, I like the hypnotic sound coming from her mouth. I watch the telly, although I'm not interested in what's on. I want to go in the kitchen and just well, stare at her. It's like I'm in a trance, hypnotised by her voice and her presence. I allow my hand to slip under the cushion and I squeeze myself through my jeans. It's so wrong, but I can't help it.

I wish my mum wasn't here, okay then my pretty neighbour wouldn't be here. I'm picturing her legs again, as she walked to the kitchen door. I feel hot and shaky, like I've got a fever, but it's a nice fever. I've never experienced this before. I decide to go up stairs, but my dick won't go down, but I have to get to the safety of my bedroom. I walk with the cushion in front of me, then I realise if they come through to the lounge, it is going to look stupid. I throw the cushion on the couch, and move quickly up the stairs.

After 15 minutes the voices from downstairs get louder. I know they are moving to the hall. I hear the door open and my mum says, "Bye Sylvie."

That's her that her name Sylvie, or Sylvia, I hear her high heels on the path, and my mum closes the front door.

I watch Sylvia's head come in to view, and then her red dress. She walks with her arms folded and her head down against the wind. Her long legs draw my eyes, as I watch her walking. Her dress is flicking round her thighs, and a gust of wind blows it up at the back. I see green under her tights, green panties. Her hand goes round to her backside pushing the skirt part of her dress down. A car hoots its horn as it passes her. She half glances at it, but turns her head back and down. The driver saw what I did, I'm sure of it.

She fights to keep her dress down; as my cock gets even harder I pray she loses the fight. Her long black hair is blown out behind her by the wind, and I see her neck. God I'd love to kiss that neck, I bet it is soft, and smells of that perfume. Suddenly those legs are out of sight. I close my eyes imagining them, and the car hooting and the green panties, it all comes into my head over and over, until I fill my mum's knickers with my cum.

I look at the mess in her underwear, now what, now what the hell do I do with them?!

My mum and my stepfather are talking about our new neighbours, as we sit eating tea.

"He's Sean and she's Sylvia," my mum tells my stepfather.

I feel this weird sensation as mum says her name. It sort of triggers my thoughts of Sylvia, her long legs, and the man who stared at her yesterday from the car.

"We should invite them to the party," he replies.

I feel my skin getting goose bumps. The thought of her, Sylvia being here in the house makes me tremble.

"Yeah, I'll ask her if they want to come round Saturday night."

Hell no, not Saturday night I'm round Danny's, I won't get to see her.

"I expect they'll be busy, so Saturday night is no good."

They look at me like I've just stepped off a spaceship. I'm waiting for something odd to come out of my mum's mouth. Perhaps she has put two and two together. Maybe she saw me gawping at Sylvia in my bedroom, maybe it is written on my face that I've got a crush on her.

"Well I can always ask," my mum says, and gets up and takes her plate to the sink.

Phew I got away with it. I don't usually join in conversations, certainly not about boring things my mum and stepfather talk about at the table. In fact I don't even notice when they ask me something. Usually the only word that sparks my interest is football; it is like I'm honed in on that word. Now it seems her name, Sylvia, is like a beacon too, attracting my interest.

My stepfather and I sit watching the football on telly. It's one of the things which we bond over.

"Can you post this invite through Sylvia's door?"

There it is her name again, but did my mum actually say Sylvia, or was I dreaming?

"Who...what?"

"God Steve, our new neighbours. Honestly you don't listen do you? Sylvia our new neighbour put it through her door."

"Dawn, he's watching the football."

"Well you see one game you've seen them all. Anyway they have stopped playing."

"It is half time," my stepfather says with a grin at me.

"Well in that case he can nip down the road; he'll be back for part two."

My stepfather laughs, "You mean the second half."

"Its okay," I say, slipping on my shoes.

"Don't knock, and don't rattle the letter box."

I'm out of the house now with the envelope. It is dark and the old git from down the road is out walking his dog.

"Hi young Steve, are you not watching the football?"

I could go into the obvious and be sarcastic and say, does it look like I'm staring at the telly, but I just smile.

"Yeah I'm just walking Harvey, before the second half starts. Only a friendly though, bloody boring game."

I just smile again and walk on. There it is in front of me, her house. I touch the latch on the gate, and for a second I just hold it, she touched it! Sylvia would have touched the latch. I press a little harder wondering if there is some sort of electricity she would have left on it. I push the gate open and go up the path. My feet feel heavy with every step. I feel weird, excited, treading where she has. I look round and see the old git opening the door to the shop he owns.

I'm stood at her door. I go to push the letterbox open but I stop. I look up at the door knob. I can hear my heart beating in my ears. Everything seems magnified. I touch the door handle where she would have touched it. Finally I push open the letter box, and drop the envelope through. I let the flap close slowly, so the metal doesn't rattle.

I turn to go back down the path, but I stop. I look at the window further a long the path. The light is on behind the curtains in the sitting room window, but a bright slither of light tells me the curtains aren't pulled tight together. I look round at the silent street behind me. The mist is coming down like in one of those horror films with Vincent Price, and what's his name Cushion in. My mum and I watch those films when my step dad is down the pub.

I edge along the path and kick something. A milk bottle topples over and rolls down the slop on the path. It makes the obvious sound of glass on concrete, until the bottle drops a couple of inches into the dirt on the flower bed. I stand very still, feeling my heart thumping through my chest and my palms getting sweaty. I wait, wondering if Sylvia or her husband will come to the door. I wait for a round a minute. I can hear faint laughing coming from their television.

I move closer to the window and peep through the gap in the curtains. They have net curtains, but because of the light in the living room I can see through the net. The gap in the flowery curtains is only a couple of inches wide, but I can see an ironing board with a shirt draped over it. The sofa is empty, apart from a pile of clothes I guess she has ironed. The telly is on, with some comedy show playing.

There is movement now as Sylvia comes in the room. She's wearing a pale blue slip, which just about covers her panties. She starts ironing with her back to me. I watch her thighs, and now and then as she moves, I get a glimpse of her white panties. The slip has a lacy white hem at the end of the shiny blue silk. I watch as the slip hugs her backside.

I'm gob smacked, just staring at her ironing in her slip. She puts the shirt on a hanger and then bends deep. I get a big flash of her panties, and feel my heart thumping like mad. She straightens up, and puts what looks like a pink blouse on the ironing board. The slip has stayed up on one side, and she either doesn't know, or doesn't bother pulling it straight. Gradually it falls back down over her panties. I watch her iron what looks like a dress, as she chuckles along with the audience at the comedy program. Stupidly I find myself smiling because she is happy.

She bends again but this time to her left. When Sylvia straightens up she has the plug from the iron in her hand, and she drapes it over the ironing board. The strap of her slip has fallen off her shoulder and hangs down her arm. Underneath is the strap of a white bra, which I could just about make out through the slip earlier. She picks up the hangers with the clothes she has ironed, and then moves out of sight.

I turn and leave, still in wonder at what I've witnessed. My mum sometimes irons in her slip, but only when she is ironing what she is going to put on.

The mist is thicker now, and I just about see a figure coming towards me. We pass each other, and I get a glimpse of his face. It's him, her husband. We don't acknowledge each other and why should we, we haven't met yet. He smells of beer, and I guess he has been down the pub. In the briefest of seconds I've seen his face, he seems a little older than Sylvia, and I don't know what she sees in him. I'm not being cruel, jealous maybe, but if I was her I wouldn't have married him. Sylvia can do much better.

Good job he didn't come home two minutes earlier. What would I have said if he caught me staring at his wife, like some peeping Tom?"

"Where have you been the second part of the football started 15 minutes ago?"

I gulp, was I really away that long?

"Don't worry Steve, there haven't been any goals, and it is quite boring," my step dad says, not taking his eyes off the telly.

Why is my mum just staring at me waiting for an answer?

"I saw Billy and chatted to him."

"Wasn't he watching the football?"

"Obviously not if Steve met him in the street," my step dad says with a chuckle, still not taking his eyes off the telly.

"Did you post it?"

"Yes," I reply, to my mum's question, in an annoyed tone because it's obviously why I went out.

This is my mum all over. She gives me things to do and then asks me if I've done it. Apparently my head is in the clouds according to her. Right now my head is still outside Sylvia's window, watching her iron in her pretty slip!

"What's that?"

"It's an invite for drinks with our neighbours on Saturday. I found it pushed through the front door. Is that the one who is top heavy?"

"Dawn, have you met her?"

"I passed her in the street, the blonde is it?"

"Yeah," I reply.

"Hey did you go out, only the milk bottle was laying in the dirty."

"No, I've been ironing."

"Well its not windy.......maybe a cat knocked it over, unless it's the dirty old man, the shopkeeper, spying on you doing the ironing in your underwear?"

I watch him tug the curtains.

"I told you we need new ones, they don't meet."

I feel his hand go up the back of my slip, and he pinches my ass.

"I bet he was out there watching you."

I turn to my grinning husband and slip my arms over his shoulders. We kiss, and he goes to the kitchen. I look at the gap in the curtains. I did feel a weird sensation, like I was being watched, but I just put it out of my head.

I cuddle into Sean as we lay in bed. I ignore the beer smell coming from his mouth and grind a little into his hip. He groans like he is enjoying it.

"That's nice, but can we wait until tomorrow, I'm knackered."

I kiss his cheek hiding the disappointment I feel. We haven't fucked yet since we moved in. In no time he is asleep.

I wonder about the things he said about the old man watching me through the gap in the curtains. Something stirs in me, but I choose to ignore it and go to sleep.

Another full wine glass gets handed to me. I smile and take it although I've probably had enough already. I watch my husband stare at the backs of Dawn's legs. She's wearing seamed stockings. Her dress is low cut, and Sean has commented to me that her tits look ready to spill out, I've watch Dawn and every time she walks her fleshy tits ripple.

We've been here two hours and I've smiled and talked to Jenny and her husband. While another couple in their early 40's like Adam and Dawn, sit opposite.

I go to the kitchen with Dawn, and help her with a few plates.

"How are you getting on with everyone?"

"Fine," I say with a smile.

"Good," Dawn replies, "you're a hit with the guys."

I smile again.

"Sylvia, things are going to get a little, well, spicy soon. I just thought I'd warn you."

She turns and looks at me with a slightly more serious expression on her face.

"As I said the blokes fancy you, and well we do this thing once a month, it's all a bit of fun."

Finally the penny drops and I feel a little flustered.

"Oh, I didn't realise."

Dawn laughs, "Yeah, well I thought I'd let you know to give you the chance to, well leave. Not that I'm kicking you out, but I wanted to warn you before someone.....tries it on with you. Up to you, you can stay if you like, and either just watch or, maybe join in, no pressure."

"Is that why Steve isn't here?" I ask stupidly.

She smiles, "Yeah, we go to each other's houses once a month. You know just a bit of fun, people pair off or we throw the house keys in the middle and the women pick one, and go off with the owner of the keys."

I look back to the living room; Doreen who is probably in her early 50's has her arm round my husband's waist. She's looking up at him and I can see in her eyes she wants him.

"Damn it, I told her hands off until I had a word with you. Bloody Doreen, she is always the first to make a move. I'll have a word with her."

I watch Doreen whispering something in my husband's ear. He turns and smiles at her, and she reaches up and kisses him.

"Don't blame Sean he has had a lot to drink. I'll go save him."

"I don't think he wants saving," Adam says, as he comes in the kitchen, and takes hold of Dawn's arm.

I watch Dawn kiss him. They both turn and look at me.