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I thought about it constantly. Even as the weeks passed by and the blind at the window stayed drawn, my mind strayed back to it over and over again. Me watching her whilst she watched me. I replayed it constantly, a throb of desire beating away at me.
But life carried on. Spring moved into summer and Connor grew older and started going to nursery for a few mornings each week. So now I had whole mornings where I had to try not to think about the girl next door and how she’d looked as she fucked herself whilst watching me do the same.
But nothing happened. The blind at next door’s kitchen was always closed now and so after a while, I stopped checking. That was that. We’d a moment and now it was over. I would just have to get back to normal.
But how could I be normal when every time I thought of it, I burned with wanting and frustration? James commented that I should go back to work soon, as staying at home clearly didn’t suit me.
After a few months had gone by, I thought I was finally getting there. I’d stopped checking up on next doors’ movements and had flung myself into play dates and meetings with other mums. It might have been okay, if James hadn’t come in one evening and shouted up the stairs,
“We just got invited to a barbecue next door!” I almost fell down the stairs.
“Yeah, that boy we see sometimes putting the bins out. He said they’re having a barbie on Saturday and invited us round.” James pulled off his shoes.
“Are…are all of them going to be there?” I asked, casually.
“I dunno. D’you want to go?” He wasn’t looking at me, he was already checking his phone and starting to wander off to the kitchen.
“Sure. Why not?” I said. “It would be good to get to know the neighbours.” James nodded absently and left me standing on the stairs with a knot of fear and excitement in my stomach.
It took me ages to get ready. I stood in front of the mirror in an agony of indecision, trying to decide if the dress was too over the top for a barbecue. I pulled at it disconsolately until James appeared in the doorway with Connor in his arms.
“Fuck’s sake, it’s only a barbecue! You look fine. Let’s go, before all the sausages get eaten.”
I trailed after him out of the house and up the path to next door. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel my entire body vibrate with its force. The front door opened and bins boy welcomed us and led us down a hallway strewn with shoes. We passed through the kitchen quickly, barely giving me time to register the sturdy kitchen table before he led us out into the back garden.
It was a blisteringly hot day and the sun was almost blinding. I shaded my eyes and squinted. Bins boy was introducing us to people. I smiled and mumbled my name as my eyes darted around the garden, searching.
Bins boy called out to a group standing near by.
“Lara!” She detached herself from the group and walked towards us, the sun infusing her pale skin with a honeyed glow. She was wearing the red polka dot dress. It fitted her perfectly, hugging her narrow waist and then flaring out over her hips. My eyes travelled up as she approached, noticing the way her breasts pushed at the fabric of the dress. Her eyes were hidden behind sixties’ style sunglasses.
“This is Lara,” said bins boy. James shifted Connor in his arms and held out a hand to her.
“Hi, I’m James,” he said.
“Hi James,” she said, taking his hand. She turned her head towards me.
“Kirsty,” I mumbled, flicking my eyes up briefly to her face.
“Kirsty,” she repeated and held her hand out. “Yes, I think I’ve seen you around.”
I felt my face flame and I took her hand. It was cool and smooth and my own felt hot and sweaty. I dropped her hand and looked down at my feet, studying the grass that was growing between the slabs of their patio.
“And what do you do Lara?” asked James, smiling his most charming smile. I sensed her head move from me to him.
“I’m a writer.”
“Oh really?” I could hear the scepticism in James’ voice. “What do you write?”
“Oh you know. Articles, blog posts and the like. That pays the rent whilst I work on my novel.”
“Oh you’re writing a novel? What’s it about?” Bins boy looked bored and wandered off, mumbling something about buns for burgers.
Lara tipped on her head on one side, as if she was evaluating James before answering his question.
“Well…it’s about control.”
“Oh right. The next Fifty Shades eh?” And he winked. God he could be a patronising twat sometimes.
Lara laughed. She had a surprisingly high pitched laugh, almost a giggle.
“Not quite. I would hope it takes a more…nuanced approach.”
“Yes. It is.” I risked a glance up and saw that she was smiling, her teeth showing white against her red lipstick. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at me or James. I muttered something about needing a drink and ducked back into the kitchen.
The cool darkness inside was a relief after the bright heat. There was a bowl bursa eve gelen escort of punch on the side and I ladled myself some into a plastic cup. I sipped it and looked at the kitchen table. A shiver of pleasure passed through me as I remembered everything that had happened there.
Lara appeared suddenly in the doorway. I looked up from the table and a knowing smile passed across her face. She took off her sunglasses and her green eyes met mine.
“I was…getting some punch,” I said, pointlessly. She came over and stood beside the punch bowl with me.
“Good idea,” she said. She was standing so close to me that I could smell her –perfume mixed with the smell of outdoors and sunshine. She stirred the punch with the ladle and, despite my best efforts, my eyes were drawn to the dark line between her breasts. My mouth went dry.
“Kirsty,” she said. I lifted my gaze from her breasts and blushed. Why was she forever catching me out? “Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine. I’m totally…totally fine.”
“You’re not embarrassed I hope?”
“No! God no, I mean why…why would I — no, no not at all.” I gulped down a large mouthful of punch.
“Good.” With her index finger, Lara very gently traced a circle around my nipple, her nail catching slightly on the fabric of my top. She leaned in towards me as she did so, her breath warm against my face. Both my nipples hardened instantly and I almost crushed my plastic punch cup. “Good. Cos you should come for tea sometime.” She smiled and tripped back out into the garden.
I stood by the punch bowl and closed my eyes, trying to fight down the aching that was spreading all over my body.
I didn’t speak to Lara again that afternoon. We passed the time making awkward small talk with people ten years younger than us and then made our excuses.
I felt relieved to be back in the safety of our own house. I pulled off my shoes whilst James rocked Connor, who was too hot and getting grumpy.
“Oh I gave that girl your number by the way,” he said, pulling faces at Connor. My head snapped up.
“That Lara girl. The ones who’s writing a sex book.”
“She didn’t say it was a sex book! And why the hell did you give her my number?”
“Because she asked for it! She said she was at home all day and so were you so it might be nice to have tea some time.” Connor’s griping was turning into wailing so James carried him upstairs. “I thought you’d be pleased,” he said over his shoulder. “It’ll give you something to do won’t it?”
I dug my fingernails into my palms, to stop myself yelling after him and starting the same argument about how looking after our son gave me plenty to do.
It got hotter over the next few days. Connor wasn’t the only one who was grumpy — James and I had been bickering so much that I almost forgot about Lara having my number.
It wasn’t until I was got back from dropping Connor at nursery and looked at my phone that I saw a text from Lara:
“Come round for tea today. 2pm. Key’s under the window box. L x”
I stood in the hallway and looked at it for a long time. I was taken back to being a teenager again, getting notes in class from boys. My stomach had never flipped this way over something from a girl.
I looked at my watch. It was 1pm. Connor would be in nursery until 3.00pm. I could go. But wait a minute. Should I go? She couldn’t actually mean tea could she? Not after…everything that had happened. My mind wandered back over everything that had happened and I felt the familiar ache. It would be cheating on James wouldn’t it? But he gave me her number — he wanted me to go round there, to see her. He already knew about it. And what we’d done…that wasn’t really cheating. It wasn’t like we’d had sex. And it least it wasn’t with a man, that would be worse. And nothing was going to happen anyway. Just tea.
The thoughts churned in my head as I half heartedly attempted to clean up in the kitchen. The hands of the clock moved inexorably towards 2 o’clock and at five to I found myself standing by the front door, in an agony of indecision.
It was just tea. But it couldn’t just be tea. It was cheating. It wasn’t cheating.
At two o’clock precisely I wrenched open the front door and almost flung myself out. I would do it. It was just tea and it wasn’t cheating.
It was only when I was about to ring the doorbell that I remembered Lara’s instructions about the key. I lifted up the pot of geraniums on the window sill and found the key.
Not exactly secure, I thought as I put the key in the door and let myself in. The hallway was empty aside from a pile of shoes. I suddenly felt awkward — what was I meant to do now?
I could hear the sound of the shower drifting down the stairs in front of me.
“Um…hello?” I called.
“Kirsty?” A voice from upstairs.
“Yes!” I called back. “For tea,” I added, to avoid any confusion.
“Come on up!” called the voice.
I walked up the creaking stairs. The bursa escort shower noises were coming from the door directly ahead of me. But she couldn’t be in the shower, surely?
“Lara?” I said.
“In here!” She was in the shower. I hovered by the door, my palms starting to go sweaty. I put my mouth close to the door.
“Er…shall I wait for you downstairs?”
“No the door’s open. Come on in.” My chest tightened.
“But are you…I mean…are you decent?” Lara’s tinkling laugh sounded clearly through the door.
“No of course not! And that’s why you should come in.” I stood for a moment, feeling my heart pounding painfully against my chest. This was ridiculous, I thought. I’d never seen my best friend in the shower let alone a woman I barely knew. But then, I’d never wanted to see my best mate in the shower.
And I wanted to see Lara. The ever present ache of desire flared sharply and I pushed the door open, harder than I’d intended.
She had her back to me, her head tilted up towards the shower head and the water running in rivulets down through her dark hair. I watched it run down into the small of her back, into the narrow pinch of her waste and then across the delicious flare of her buttocks.
She turned around. I didn’t even look her in the eye at first because I was too busy taking in the rest of her body.
I’d seen her breasts before but only from a distance. Close up I could see more clearly their beautiful curve and the slight puckering of skin around her red nipples.
My eyes went down over the slight curve of her belly to the neat triangle of hair between her pale, plump thighs.
I brought my eyes back to her face. It was the first time I had seen her without make-up, without the bright red lipstick. She looked softer, slightly sweeter somehow.
“Kirsty,” she said. “I’m glad you came.” It took me a while to find the ability to speak.
“Um…yeah,” I said, unable to prevent my eyes from wandering all over her body. “Me too.”
“Could you be a love and put the kettle on? I’ll be down in a minute.” She reached for the shower gel and I knew that if she started soaping herself in front of me I would completely lose it.
I turned and went back down the stairs. I walked mechanically to the kitchen, which was starting to feel as familiar as my own, and put the kettle on. Then I sat at the table. I ran my hands over the varnished surface and thought of Lara’s naked bottom resting on it.
The kettle had just clicked when she came in, wrapped in a blue towelling dressing gown. Her hair was wet and dishevelled, as if she’d just rubbed it quickly with a towel.
She smiled at me and opened a cupboard. I watched the dressing gown move up her legs as she stretched up to reach the tea bags.
She talked to me as she made the tea. Or rather talked at me because my head was still full of images of the water running off her naked body and every time she passed by me, her freshly washed scent filled my nostrils.
She finally placed a mug in front of me and sat on the other side of the table. She sipped her tea and watched me over the rim of her mug.
I looked down at my mug, like I couldn’t take it in. I’d seen Lara having sex on this table, I’d seen her touch herself and here we were, actually having tea.
“Is something wrong?” I looked up and met Lara’s eyes. “Did I put too much milk in?” she asked, nodding at my mug.
“No, no it’s fine. I just…I just can’t believe we’re…having tea.”
“Did you think we’d be having something else?” Her eyes watched me steadily.
“No! No, I mean…no. I just – “
“Coffee perhaps?” Her lips twitched. She was laughing at me, enjoying watching me squirm. I felt my face go red and I sipped my wretched tea to give me something to do. I must look ridiculous to her, I thought. A frustrated house wife — what a fucking cliché. “I’m joking – we can do whatever you want.” I looked up.
“What do you mean?” Lara took another sip of her tea, her lips pursing.
“We can do whatever you want,” she repeated. I watched her and took in all the details of her face. Her startling green eyes, the angular planes of her face and the lips that even without lipstick were full and red.
My body knew exactly what it wanted. I could feel it in the tension that was thrumming through me.
She tilted her head on one side slightly.
“What do you want?” she asked. My mouth went dry.
“I…I don’t know,” I mumbled.
“Yes you do. Just say it.”
“I – ” I looked at her pleadingly. “I want…I mean I don’t…I don’t do this.”
“I’m…I’m not gay – “
Lara rolled her eyes.
“Please! We’re not in some angsty teen drama here.” I tried another line.
“I’m not the kind of person who cheats – “
“Kirsty.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on my forearm. I looked down at her fingers, long and slender against the fine hairs of my arm. “This is all irrelevant. Answer the question.” Her eyes were görükle escort bright and insistent. “What do you want?”
“I want…I want…you…” I tailed off. She nodded encouragingly.
“And what do you want to do?”
“I want…to…to touch you.” I felt hot all over and my hands were shaking. She nodded again.
“Good. Where do you want to touch me?”
“Your lips. Your breasts. Your thighs. Your hair. Your…your…” I struggled for the word, trying to find one that would fit.
She grabbed my wrist and swung it sideways under the table, half pulling me with it. I stumbled heavily against the table as she pulled my hand under her robe and between her legs.
My fingers touched warm, silky wetness and her pubic hairs tickled the back of my hand.
My breath caught in my throat and then rushed out in a gasp. Her face was close to mine.
“There?” she asked, raising her eyebrows with the question. I nodded, unable to speak. She held my hand against her and my face was so close to hers that I could feel her warm breath against my cheek.
Then she released my hand and moved it away. She pushed her chair back and stood up.
“Good,” she said briskly. “Til next time then.”
“I’ll text you.” She put the mugs into the sink, tipping out the tea I hadn’t drunk.
“You’re not serious?”
“Don’t you have to go and pick up Connor?” I looked and my watch and swore under my breath. Lara was already walking out of the kitchen and down the hall. “You can just put the key back under the pot,” she called over her shoulder.
I watched her climb the stairs, her white legs disappearing beyond the banisters. I laid my hands flat on the table again and took some deep breaths before I was able to get up and rush back to the nursery.
The next few days were fever. It took all my powers of concentration just to get through the daily routine with Connor. I was relieved that James still wasn’t talking to me because it spared me the effort of having to appear normal.
I was aroused constantly. I was in the supermarket, buying nappies when I suddenly remembered the feel of Lara’s warm, wet cunt against my hand and I shook with desire.
I thought about her soft pale flesh as I brought myself to orgasm several times a day. The relief it provided was short-lived.
All my self-deceit had been stripped away. I wanted her and I stopped trying to deny it. I stopped worrying about being gay, about cheating, about all of it. I felt like I had leaped off a cliff and the ground was rushing towards me with such dizzying speed that the ending was inevitable.
My phone beeped one Thursday morning and I knew it would be her:
A kind of calm settled on me. I dropped Connor at nursery and told the staff I might be a little late picking him up. I came home and had a shower. I even drank a cup of tea, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking down into her kitchen. The blind was drawn.
I was outside next door at 2pm sharp. The weather had turned colder recently and there was a slight chill in the air. She hadn’t told me to use the key and so I just rang the doorbell.
Lara opened the door. She was wearing the red polka dot dress and her red lipstick. I glanced down and noticed her feet were bare, the toe nails painted red to match her nails. She stood back from the door and jerked her head, motioning me inside.
I walked into the narrow hallway and she closed the door behind me. We stood facing each other, less than a metre between us. Her breast were rising and falling and her lips were slightly parted.
All the desire and longing rose up and crashed into me like a wave flinging itself against an unyielding cliff. I stepped forward and pressed my lips against hers clumsily, falling against her and making her stumble back against the hall wall.
Her mouth opened against mine and our tongues lapped against each other. My breasts were pressed deliciously against hers and a wave of fire passed down to my already wet cunt.
I reached my hands up to touch the sides of her face and then moved them down her throat and her waist, marvelling at the softness. My hands moved up again towards her breasts but she caught my wrists and pulled her head back from the kiss.
“Wait.” She pushed me gently away. I almost howled with frustration.
“What?” I said, breathing hard.
“Don’t be in such a hurry,” she said. She reached up under her arm and pulled the zip of her dress down. She then eased her arms out of the straps and pushed them from her shoulders.
Her bra was a black silky looking thing with lace edging and even in the midst of my fever I paused to admire it. Her breasts nestled perfectly within in it.
“You can touch them now,” she said. I returned to her and took them in my hands. “Gently,” Lara murmured in my ear.
I took each breast in my hands and felt its weight. Then I ran my thumb over the silky material, feeling the nipples through the bra. Lara made a satisfied noise. I ran a finger delicately along the edge of the cup, the soft flesh of her breast making way for me.
“Take it off,” she whispered. I reached both my arms behind her back, my face resting against the dark line of her cleavage. As I fiddled with the clasp, I breathed in the scent her skin.
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