Curtain Twitcher Ch. 03

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Eyl 18, 2023 // By:admin // No Comment

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Summer gave way to autumn. The back garden was covered in leaves and James was always saying he’d rake them up but he never did.

He was pleased because we were having more sex than usual. He joked that having a baby had clearly made me randy. He made a lot of stupid jokes and sometimes I toyed with the idea of telling him – of letting slip that I had shagged the girl next door and it had been amazing and that I kept replaying it in my mind whilst he was fucking me and that’s why I seemed to be enjoying it more than usual. But he was really pleased with himself and I was enjoying the respite from our usual bickering.

I kept my phone on me at all times and became increasingly OCD about charging it. Every time I heard the trill of a text message arriving I jumped. But it was never Lara. It was James, or one of my new mum friends or someone from work. And each time I felt a stab of disappointment.

I still had her knickers – black, lacy and still bearing her wet, earthy scent. I’d taken to keeping them in the nappy bag because it meant that every time I had to reach in there for a nappy, I would see them and be reminded of the feel of Lara’s wet sex against my face. There was no danger of James coming across them of course – he seemed to think that he had fulfilled some sort of quota for the number of nappies he had to change and was now exempt from that chore.

I saw Lara a few times, coming in and out of her front door. She was always wearing her coat now, a classic brown mac with red scarf knotted around her throat. I watched her one evening, passing by our front window. She didn’t look up and I followed her with my eyes as she walked up the street, her hips swaying.

“She never asked you round for tea again did she?” James’ voice behind me made me jump.

“No,” I muttered, feeling my face flush.

“Shame. I want to know about that sex book of hers.”

“She’s not writing a sex – oh never mind,” I said, drawing the curtains.

“I guess maybe you don’t have much in common really,” he said. “I mean she’s all young and…you know.”

“What?” Now it was James’ turn to blush.

“You know! Sort of…glamorous.”

“And I’m not?”

“No you are, of course you are! But you’re a mum aren’t you? It’s different.”

I turned my back and said nothing. I might be a mum but I’d made that glamorous girl next door come against my face.

I revisited that memory whenever I needed to. Whenever I had to mop up Connor’s sick for the fifth time in a day or found myself talking about poo with one of the other mums I would replay the scene in Lara’s hallway and smile to myself.

But still the text never came. For the first few weeks I was miserable. I couldn’t even look at the next door house without feeling a throbbing in my nether regions. It dawned on me that I had thought that having sex with Lara would somehow purge her from my system, that it would extinguish all the tension that had been building in me and allow me to forget about her and move on. But it had only added fuel to the fire. I burned for her with an even greater intensity. Now I knew how she felt and how she tasted, it only made me want more of it.

But the weeks passed and nothing happened. I started to think that maybe that was a good thing. Perhaps it had just been a one off– a good experience that I could hoard up and treasure. I still had the pants to prove to myself that it had really happened.

Me and James were getting on better, mainly because I was so distracted with thoughts of Lara that I’d stopped bothering to argue with him. James even suggested that we should go on a date, our first since Connor was born. I thought maybe a night out would take my mind off our neighbour so I agreed. James’ mum came to babysit and we went off for a curry.

I sat across the table from my husband, eating chicken korma and idly wondering what James would say if he knew. What would I say if he had been the one screwing the girl next door? I couldn’t seem to summon up any anger or outrage at this thought – it just made me think of my nails scratching down Lara’s smooth back and James and Connor and my ‘real’ life shimmered and faded like a mirage.

After we’d paid up, James suggested we should go for a drink in the local pub. I agreed and we walked the short distance along the high street, buttoning up our coats against the cold night air. I’d long since given up agonising about my cheating on James. I was being unfaithful – I knew that. But I was so consumed with Lara that there was no room for anything else. I could just about keep the daily motions of my life going but there was so space for grappling with the implications of what I was doing.

It was packed in the pub and I followed James to the bar and waited beside him while he tried to get the barman’s attention. We’d had wine with our curry and I was already feeling a bit tipsy. I put my hand on the bar to steady myself against the crush of people behind me.

“What do you want?” James asked me, over his shoulder.

“Rum bursa eve gelen escort and coke.” James turned back to the bar.

“I’d have gone for a port myself.” I knew who it was before I looked round. Lara was standing the other side of me, pressed close against me in the throng of people.

As ever she looked immaculate. She was dressed casually for her, in a jumper and jeans with her dark hair falling around her shoulders. And red lipstick, of course.

“Hello,” I said, looking into her green eyes that seemed to be glowing softly in the dim light of the pub.

“Hello,” she said. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said and then immediately thought what a lie that was. I wasn’t fine – I spent every waking moment thinking about Lara and aching with desire for her. And now she was standing so close to me I was having trouble breathing. “You haven’t text me,” I said.

Lara said nothing but her eyes moved above my head and she smiled. I turned and saw James turning round. He waved at Lara and made a drinking motion with his hand. Lara shook her head and James turned back to the bar. Lara’s eyes returned to mine.

“I was thinking…” she began. I tried not to lean forward eagerly, like a puppy waiting for a treat. “I was thinking about that time I caught you watching me. In the kitchen. I was with a blonde-haired lady – do you remember?”

I felt my already hot face grow even hotter. I was aware that James was standing right behind me on the other side of the bar, with only the noise of the pub preventing him from hearing.

“Of course I remember,” I mumbled. Lara put her head on one side.

“I was thinking,” she said, “was that the only time?”


“Was that the only time you watched me?” Her voice suddenly seemed louder and it seemed as if the whole pub could hear. I glanced fearfully over my shoulder but James’ back was still turned.

“For God’s sake! I can’t…talk about that here,” I hissed.

“Tough. I’m not going to start chatting about the weather. Had you watched me having sex before?” I was sure a few of the people nearby turned their heads. I looked around in a panic, wondering if I should just push my way through the crowd.

Lara leaned in and I smelt her scent and I was suddenly back in the hallway, pressed against the wall with her. My breath caught in my throat.

“Kirsty,” she said, her voice thrumming against my ear. “I’ll keep asking until you answer. Was that the first time you’d watched me?”

I watched her lips as she spoke and had to fight an overwhelming urge to kiss them, to run my tongue along them.

“No,” I said, as quietly as I could. “I’d seen you before.” Her eyes narrowed slightly.


“Kirsty! Take this can you?” James was suddenly between us, handing me my rum and coke. “Took fucking ages to get served. You sure you don’t want anything?” he said to Lara. She smiled at him.

“No thanks. I can buy my own drinks.”

James began pushing through the crowd away from the bar and I followed him, not looking back at Lara. We found a table at the back of the pub and squeezed onto it.

“Stuck up cow,” said James, as we sat down.

“I thought you said she was glamorous?”

“She can be glamorous and stuck up.”

We sipped our drinks and tried to chat as best we could above the noise of the pub. I stayed facing James, determined not to turn round and look for her amongst the crowd. Eventually, the wine and coke took their toll and I shouted to James that I was going to the loo.

I pushed my way past the tables and into the ladies. It was a small, cramped toilet with only two cubicles. There was one free so I went in and peed. I heard the woman in the next cubicle flushing and then washing her hands. The door opened and the sounds of the pub grew louder and then quieter again as the door closed behind her.

I pulled my jeans up and flushed the toilet. I opened the cubicle door and stepped out – straight into Lara. She was standing right outside the door and before I had time to even register she was there, she pushed me back into the cubicle, slamming the door behind her and locking it.

I squeaked as she pushed me up against the wall of the cubicle, her hands gripping my forearms. I was wet instantly as her face was close to mine, her breasts pressed against my own.

“When did you watch me?” she asked, her breath warm on my cheek and smelling faintly of alcohol.

“I’m not – you can’t – ” My protests were cut off as with her weight still against me, she undid my jeans and thrust her hand into my pants. I yelped and tried to push her away with my free hand but with lightning speed she slipped a finger inside me and pushed up as far as she could.

I moaned and pushed feebly against her.

“You can’t – you can’t – ” I heard the door open and someone go into the next cubicle. Lara put her other hand over my mouth and stared into my eyes as her finger stayed buried inside bursa escort me.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip as my cunt throbbed around her finger. I could feel my wetness soaking her hand and my nipples hardening against hers.

The woman seemed to take an eternity to pee. And then finally she flushed and the sounds of the taps came on. Lara pushed up against me and I squeezed my eyes shut and bit down hard on my lip to keep from crying out. And then the other woman was gone.

Lara took her hand from my mouth and I gasped.

“You’re crazy,” I breathed.

“When did you watch me?” she asked again. I looked at the intense set of her face.

“You really want to know, don’t you?” I said. Lara didn’t reply. It was bugging her, the fact that I had watched her before and she didn’t know when. For the first time, I felt as if the balance of power had shifted. “Well maybe I won’t tell you,” I said.

Her face moved slightly, an infinitesimal raise of an eyebrow. And then she shifted her hand and pushed another finger inside me.

“God!” My fingers clawed against the wall of the cubicle. Lara pulled her fingers out and then pushed them in again, pushing me back. I groaned and closed my eyes.

“Tell me,” she whispered. I shook my head. I felt her shift again and another finger enter me and stretch me. My legs were beginning to sag, which only pushed Lara’s hand harder against me. I moved my head from side to side as Lara moved her fingers slowly in and out. “Come on Kirsty,” she said, “just tell me.”

I leaned my back flat against the cubicle as Lara moved her hand back and forth, increasing her speed. My cunt was full of her and I draped an arm around her neck to support myself. She never took her eyes from my face and as she increased her speed, I gasped against her cheek.

I was racing towards climax – I could feel its white fire building within me and then suddenly, Lara stopped, her hand becoming still. I groaned in agony and tried to move my hips up and down on her hand, to make myself come. I moved a hand towards my groin but Lara slapped it away.

“Tell me. When did you watch me?” Lara’s voice was soft and purring in my ear. I just wanted to come, nothing else mattered.

“There was one time,” I gasped. “You were being fucked from behind by some bloke.” I enjoyed saying it, enjoyed seeing a look of surprise flit across her face before it was gone again.

“Ah yes,” she said. “I remember.” And then she started fucking me again, hard and fast and my buttocks smacked against the cubicle and then I came hard against her hand, my legs shaking, my fingers tangled in her hair, sobbing against her neck as I almost collapsed to the floor.

She withdrew her fingers so quickly that it hurt and then she left without another word, slamming the cubicle door behind her. I stood there for a moment, my heart racing painfully in my chest, breathing hard. And then I did up my jeans and left the cubicle. I paused a moment to check in the mirror that my face was as normal looking as I could make it. Then I went back out into the main pub.

I re-joined James and sat down, closing my eyes briefly at the delicious jolt it gave me.

“You ok?” asked James. “You were gone ages. Dodgy curry?” I shook my head and sipped my drink. James was talking to me and I replied vaguely, not really hearing him. I was distracted by the thought that Lara was somewhere out there, with my scent on her hand.

The text came the very next day, as I was feeding Connor his dinner. Come for tea tomorrow. 3pm. I almost whooped with joy. There was no agonising about whether to go or not, or whether it really was just tea. I wanted Lara more than I had ever wanted anyone and I had given up trying to rationalise, justify or even understand it.

The next day I dropped Connor off at nursery and then showered and dressed in the least mumsy clothes I could find. I hadn’t been clothes shopping since giving birth so my options were limited. I plumped for some skinny jeans and a checked shirt.

At 3 o’clock precisely I was on Lara’s doorstep, ringing the doorbell. She answered the door and smiled at me.

“Kirsty,” she said. “Do come in.” She stood back from the door to let me in. She was wearing a simple black dress with a red cardigan over the top. Her red lipstick was present and correct and her feet were bare.

I stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind me. Lara was standing close to me and I at once leaned forward to kiss her. She put her hand on my shoulder and moved her head out of reach.

“Kirsty,” she said, tutting. “I asked you over for tea.” She turned and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. I scowled and followed, feeling like a child who has asked for sweets and been denied.

The table was indeed set out for tea, with a grey and white spotted table cloth that was laid with a tea pot in the shape of a red phone box and cups and saucers. Lara motioned me to sit. She sat opposite me and görükle escort poured out the tea.

“You don’t take sugar do you?” she asked. I shook my head. I watched her hands as she picked up the milk jug and poured into our cups. Her nails were immaculately trimmed and painted with a dark blue varnish. “How about a slice of cake?” she asked. I nodded. I knew better than to try and rush things. Lara would do everything in her own time, according to her own agenda.

She stood up and lifted a tin from the side. I watched her back, admiring again her narrow waist and flared hips. I remembered running my hands along her outline and I felt a shiver of pleasure.

“Lemon drizzle,” Lara announced, setting the cake on the table. She cut two slices and then leaned back in her chair, sipping her tea and nibbling at her cake. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, the way sugar granules from the cake clung to her mouth and how the pink tip of her tongue slid along her lips to scoop it up.

I took a bite of my own slice but it sat heavy and hard in my tense stomach.

“So Kirsty,” said Lara, licking the last cake crumbs from the tips of her fingers. “It was…interesting to hear you’d been watching me for a while.”

“Well if you will have sex in the kitchen…” I said. Lara looked at the window, its blind drawn and sighed.

“Yes I suppose you’re right. That’s the problem with these terraced houses. No privacy.”

“Nothing that a blind couldn’t solve,” I said. Lara smiled.

“True. Strangely enough, it never occurred to me that anyone would be able to see. But the thought of you watching was quite…alluring.” We looked at each other for a moment in silence. “Did you like watching?” she asked. The heat rose up my throat. Why was she always asking me questions to which she already knew the answer?


“Did it turn you on?” I looked away, embarrassed.

“You know it did.”

“Why did it turn you on?” Lara sipped her tea and waited for me to answer. I took a deep breath.

“Well with that…that bloke who was…you know…well it was the way you were in control. You looked over your shoulder at one point and gave him orders. And that was…hot.” Lara screwed her eyes up as if she was trying to remember.

“Oh yes,” she said. “He needed a bit of guidance. He was a bit like a piston – just hammering away with no real technique.” She sipped her tea thoughtfully. “Do you think you could do better?”

“What – how – what do you mean?”

“If you were to fuck me the same way. Could you do it better?

“I – well – I could try,” I said, lamely. “But it won’t be the same will it? Because he was a man.”


“Well- um – I mean I don’t…I don’t have – you know…”

“A penis?” said Lara, helpfully. I nodded in the direction of the teapot, unable to look at her. She smiled and then got up and left the kitchen. I heard her footsteps going up the stairs and moving around. Then she returned holding something in her hand. I rose to my feet as she placed it on the table next to the tea pot. I stared at it in horrified fascination.

Black leather straps curled round a bright pink, ridged dildo. It was around six inches long and as wide as an actual penis. I looked up from it to Lara’s face.

“What the hell is that?” She rolled her eyes.

“What does it look like?”

“You can’t – I can’t – I’m not wearing that!”

Lara stepped close to me and unbuttoned the first few buttons of my shirt. She pressed her lips against mine and I was immediately lost in the feeling of her tongue sliding into my mouth and caressing my own. She broke the kiss.

“You want to fuck me don’t you?” Just hearing her say that made me wet. She didn’t need me to say anything – as ever, she knew the answer already. She set her mouth in a hard line. “The only way you’re going to do it is with our friend there. Now take off your jeans.”

I obeyed her without another word. I peeled my jeans off, leaning against the kitchen table for support. I stood there in my lace trimmed pants –the best I could find from the clean washing pile. Lara pointed at them.

“And them.” I blushed as I pulled them down and unhooked them from my ankles. I stood awkwardly and put my hands instinctively in front of myself. “Oh for heaven’s sake!” Lara handed me the dildo. “Put that on.” Then she turned and began to move the tea things off the table.

I frowned as I fiddled with the straps of the thing, trying to figure out how it worked. Finally I worked out that you stepped into it and I pulled it up until the dildo pointed out from my crotch. Lara came over and tightened the straps around my thighs so that the flat base of the dildo was settled firmly on my clitoris. She nodded approvingly and unbuttoned my shirt the rest of the way, kissing me roughly and sliding her hands round my back to undo my bra.

I was naked wearing a strap on. As Lara’s hands moved over my breasts, the absurdity of the situation was not lost on me. But I just didn’t care. As Lara’s hands grazed my nipples, I felt the wetness growing between my thighs and I wrapped my arms around her. She leant back against the table and pulled me towards her, pulling her dress up. I ran my hands over her smooth thighs and pushed the dildo into her crotch, my tongue caressing her mouth.

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