House Watching

We got a new security system, with cameras aimed at our valuables…

The safes especially, but also, the back yard pool. Front doors, driveway, sensors on the windows, and other standard stuff. The security company thought it would be a good idea to record evidence, if anything valuable was taken.

Then, we went on vacation, and had a neighbor come in to water the plants. Gave most of the staff the week off, but being autumn break. Emeric offered to do it for free. He was 16, and he didn’t need the money.

His parents took care of him, had money put away in trust for his college, a weekly stipend, but he said “It’ll be nice to get out of the house.” So, we gave him the keys, and a combination for the security system. Someone came out from the company to talk him through it, so he didn’t trip any false alarms, just watering plants, but he could be trusted to re-arm it when he left.

Only, he didn’t leave, he stayed the whole week. “Honey,” my husband called over the intercom, “You want to come down, and look at this.”

He didn’t ask, so curious, I put on a robe, and looked down from the balcony. “What is it?” I looked around, but everyone had left from airing out the house. Getting it ready to be lived in again, after a full week practically unattended, but he didn’t even leave dishes in the sink, and my plants were doing fine.

I thought he paused it, but as I came down the spiral staircase, I saw him scratch his him. Meric, lounging by the pool, working on his tan, completely naked. “Huh,” I shook my head, but he’d apparently shaved, or had his body hair waxed. With his arms back up behind his head, he had nothing on but a pair of sun glasses, and a smile on his face.

“That ain’t all,” he ran it ahead, until a woman walked quickly around the side of the pool, then stopped.

“Is that,” She nodded, and even from this distance, I recognized another neighbor. A model, so her designer suit, tailored to fit her perfectly looked about as good as it could, but she unbuttoned the jacket.

Meric pulled his penis up, from hanging between his legs, and rubbed it hard, while she stripped, but quickly. I looked back at Charles, but he just set the remote down, and leaned back to watch.

“Well,” I thought out loud, “He is sixteen.” I don’t know why I was making excuses for, my neighbor. I don’t want to expose her, because in her line of work, her image is her work, essentially.

Also, appearing nude, in a sex tape would remove some of the mystery. In fashion, you want to conceal a little. Not too much, you want to show enough of the figure to catch men’s attention, but hold just enough back to keep it.

“He’s in pretty good shape.” My husband’s belt clocked, so I glanced over, and nodded, but he was about as erect as I’d ever seen him. “You think?” He pumped it, slowly, but didn’t take his eyes off the Plasma screen for very long.

“Huh, what about her?” Naked now, she knelt, or almost knelt beside the lounger. A little light shown under her bare knee, held just off the concrete, which was impressive.

He shrugged, “A little too skinny, if you ask me. She’s beautiful, a model, and a trophy wife, but honestly, she could use a boob job at least.”

“Huh,” I let a little hot air out of the front of my robe, and he didn’t stop, stroking his erection. Nor speed up, but he didn’t look away from the open front of my robe, so I continued down to the knot in the silken belt.

“I love your body so much better.” He grinned, and held his eyebrow up, I couldn’t help laughing a little. It’s such a comical look.

“I’m so glad that I didn’t need a boob job. As you so crudely put it.” I went to Oxford, in England, and my English is perfect. Also Dartmouth, but I learned the classics, in England, where they were written. I rather pride myself on reading Shakespeare, for example, and actually understanding all the puns. For instance, the Cobbler at the beginning of Julius Ceasar, and all his puns.

“Especially your tan.”

“Oh,” I dropped my robe off of my arms, and felt the air conditioning hit them. Goose flesh, and a little shiver to set his gaze wavering. Following the womanly bounce of my bosom. “You’re not so bad yourself.” So common, and cliche’ a thing to say.

We took the boat down to the Med, and back. Mallorca, just the 2 of us, but far enough out from any land that we could walk around deck nude, and it felt so liberating? I hesitated to put on clothes after my shower, so my hair was dry.

Then, we fucked. On the couch, watching our model neighbor fuck the teenage boy, by the pool. He was supposed to be watching the house, but in an ironic twist, the house watched him. Sunning bye the pool, stark naked, and inviting his mistress.

No, well technically, she was the married one cheating on her husband. A trophy wife, whilst he was a teenage boy. You can’t really blame him, she’s practically a professional cock-tease. A page 3 girl, you could whip it out, and beat it like a red headed stepchild, but a model is supposed to model the clothes, themselves.

Naked, I noticed scars on her hip, when she walked back up the steps, and into the patio door. While Meric took a dip to cool off. Charles finished, and I was close, but distracted. I kept cracking my eyes, and catching glimpses of our poolside, the lounge, and the illicit couple using it for a secret tryst, but as attentive a lover, as always.

He noticed that I hadn’t finished, and turned over on his hip to work me with his fingers. “You’re dripping cum. Like a cheap $500.00 a night call girl.” Privilege, even trying to compare me to a cheap whore, he compared me to a high class call girl, worth have a thousand dollars a night? I should be insulted, if the idea is to call me cheap, then call me cheap. It’s annoying, and I’m bothered by wondering. What is cheap for a prostitute? $20 for a tug-job in a bus station lavatory? $5.00 to flash your bra under the bleachers in a middle school? I had to fill in the blanks myself, to maintain the mood.

“Hmn,” I nodded, but closing my eyes. At first, I took the pale lines on her skinny hip to be stretch marks. We all have them, and if they aren’t covered by an artful drape of fabric, then they can be removed by a skillful retouch, but they weren’t. The lines were too straight, even and perfect, honestly.

“Huh!” She used to cut herself. “HhuhH! Uh!” Careful, as if her OCD wouldn’t allow her to even mess that up, when she was scarring herself. “Oh, fuck huh! Ahh huh! Fuck yeah, fucking pervert! Sick fucking perverted fuck!” As if she thought herself too perfect, probably as a teenager, but she had to hide her scars, where nobody else would see them. “Huh?”

“He’s bisexual.” My husband looked me in the eyes, but waited. To drop this bombshell until I was still quivering around his fingers, and dripping his semen all over the top grain leather of the couch. He kissed me, then he chuckled. “With the house to himself, all week. Huh.” He felt down my cheek, and hot neck to my chest, and gently fondled my breasts. “You want to watch that? Him fucking, and getting fucked, by men.”

He didn’t ask, and I thought, a moment. Even as the post orgasmic glow started to fade, and my husband’s lips gently kissed the lop of my breast. Down to lick my nipple, kiss, and suckle it. I thought that we had had enough wild sex on the boat. Uninhibited out on the deck. Under the sky, the hot sun on his back, so I could feel it. Clutching at it when he pumped me full of cock. Engorged with passion.

“Uh, hm.” It was distracting, but I but had to open my eyes, to see him. Back on the lounger, but turned over. Glistening with drops of pool water, beading up on his broad young muscular back, thick legs, and tight hard looking bottom. “Oh, yes.” I pulled his head away, so my nipple snapped back, and my breast dropped, heavy with renewed lust. “Show me.”

“Well, scoot over.” He handed me the remote. “Huh, too bad the maids left, sombody’s got to clean up this mess.” He leaned over, on his knees, and licked up the fluids of our lovemaking from the rich creme coloured leather.

“Huh,” I shook my head, and forced myself to look down at the remote. Complicated thing, with a hundred tiny buttons like a 90s PDA. I found the fast forward, and skipped ahead, but the system was advanced enough to be tripped for Motion. “You’ve still got some jizz in your cunt.”

“Huh!” I scooted out on the sofa, so he could spread my legs, put my heals up on his back, and put that filthy mouth to good work, cleaning up his mess.

I never was one for Pornography, of any type. It’s a tease, without any satisfaction. I’m not one to masturbate on my own, either. It just makes me feel even more alone, so I leave myself horny, until it goes away. Distract myself with something, a good book perhaps, but now I have a husband, who loves me, and satisfies my every need.

However, I found this uniquely arousing. Charley’s talented tongue certainly didn’t hurt, but this wasn’t just some actors, on some set. These were people I knew, saw every day, and talked to often. My friends, and neighbors, with Emeric in the middle of all of them.

He’d thrown a party, of course. His father especially, I believe that I understand now. Why he offered to watch the house. He was so eager to, despite the fact that we payed tens of thousands of ponds to have a professional security company take care of that, but we saved a little money, paying our landscaper to come in, and water the plants.

I could definitely empathize with the freedom to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, with whomever he wanted to. Our house just gave him a place to do it, for a week, and if he hadn’t been planning this for years, then he improvised, and managed to cram in just about everything, I could imagine, and more.

“Charles.” I pulled his head back, and looked down. He smiled, nodding in my hands. “I’m clean enough, so you should probably get me dirty again, if you want to keep doing that.”

He shrugged, “I love your twat, dripping with lust, as much as my spunk, but yeah.” He stood up, hard, and throbbing with pent up lust again. I had no idea how capable he was, before. This week, I was satisfied with sex, once or twice a week. Spontaneoulsy, whenever one of us desired. One of the perks of marrying a sex crazed pervert.

3, or 4 times a day, however. I wondered idly if he could keep up with that young hedonist. “Huh! You want to get a strapon.”

“What?”

“A big strapon cock, to fuck me, like this.”

“No, I.” Shook my head, “Would you?”

“Oh yeah, I’m tired of doing all the fucking in the house.”

“But, you’re talking about, sodomy?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck me, fuck my tight virgin asshole. Huh fuck! Fugh!” He’s practically foaming at the mouth. “UHHHHH!” Pulling out, and flogging it frantically. “I’m about to cum.”

“Come for me, come on me, come on. Come all over my body, so you can lick it clean.”

“Hhuh!” It was just a pathetic dribble. “HhuhHhuh!” Weak, and runny, not even translucent, practically clear. “Huh, huh!” He shook it, milking the last drops out on my tummy, then immediately diving down, to lick it up hungrily.

“Huh!” I just watched, the video. From the trophy case in the bedroom, there was a decoy trophy, specially made with a camera in it’s base. To keep an eye on my vanity, jewelry box, and safe hidden behind the mirror.

Also, across the bed. Filled with tanned muscular bodies, every one shaved clean, if not waxed. I wondered, if the salon had a discount, for bringing in your friends. For full body waxes, or if they had a hot tub filled with body wax to wrestle around in. Playfully sticking strips to rip off hair in patches before they got down to.

Well, it was hard to even see who was doing what to whom. It was just a pile of tanned flesh, with arms, legs, and buttocks sticking out, or flashing into view until they got up.

Surrounding Emeric, pumping his pent up lust out all over his rippling midriff, then another, and another. The boys, I suppose. Teenage boys, but they could be seen to be men. At this stage, the appeared to be too young to be making hidden camera sex tapes, in our bed.

All over our bed, I counted 4 of them total. Most of it got on his chest, abs, and legs, but then he rolled over for them to see how many fingers they could cram into his gapping asshole, and pull it apart, wide enough to spit in it. Trying to fist him, but none of them had small enough fingers to get their knuckles in. No problem, because this was just an intermission until one of them got an erection. The other 2 held him wide open, with 2 fingers each, so he could slip his hard throbbing boner in. Which just covered it up with young buttocks, flexing, and relaxing.

“Huh!” He, whoever he was, had tan lines around them, from some sort of swimsuit, or briefs. I couldn’t tell, but I was starting to appreciate the full body tan, tanning nude myself, and we have a private enough pool. Back yard, hedgerows around it that I could enjoy the freedom, to maintain my tan.

As long as the unseasonably late summery weather, especially for England allowed. Should we get a tanning bed, or find a salon, perhaps with waxing. “Huh, would you like me to try waxing, my body?”

He kissed me between the legs, before he wiped his mouth, and shook his head. “No, I like you hairy.” He ran his fingers through my pubic thatch, to punctuate his point. “In fact, you don’t have to shave your legs, quite so much?”

He asked this time. Normally, he liked to suggest things, in the form of a question, without asking. Do you want this. Period. No question, his passive aggressive way of saying You Want This.

“Well, it’s no bother, but if you would prefer me that way.”

“I like the stubble.” He went back down for. More, we’re beyond second helpings, on desert, but I hadn’t thought that. Well, honestly who really likes hairy legs against their cheeks?

“Huh, you know, how lately men have been. Neatly trimming their beards, leaving stubble?”

“Of course. You want me to try that?”

“I might like it, I might not. I hadn’t really considered that it might be useful, for oral sex before. You suggested it, I never liked that look. Personally, but I suppose, I can imagine you with a beard. A neatly trimmed one.”

“Of course, and your rough stubbly legs rubbing it.”

“Huh,” I patted his head, and picked up the remote. To see what else we’d missed, over the week. “Oh!”

A girl showed up, a teenager giggling, and grinning madly. Pulling a dildo out of her bag, with a belt, and straps hanging from a triangular piece of plastic.

“Dear.” I stopped him. “Have you seen this part?”

“Of course,” he looked back. “I’ve watched all of it.”

“You would really, want me to get one of those.”

“Yeah, I really want to try that, it looks so sexy. You know she’s not my type, but even so young, and skinny. With the strapon.” He took the remote. “Here, let me show you.” Quickly skipping through her mating dance, stripping down to her underwear, then letting her put it on, at normal speed.

“And Emeric?”

“What about him?”

“He’s young, but he’s no longer skinny. Is that your type?”

“Huh!” He started pulling it hard again. For the third time, in an hour? Or 2, but still. Remarkable at his age, and I haven’t seen him so passionate. Even that week we had on the boat, on the Med. He looked back, “I think I’m bisexual, too.”

“Huh, well. If you’re tried of doing all the fucking, maybe it’s time we get a younger cock, to do the fucking.”

“You know I love it when you talk dirty, but you’re serious.”

I nodded, “Well, I’m certainly not getting one of those, but he is a young man. With a young man’s stamina, and your ass.” I gave him a loving pat, and squeeze. “Needs fucking.”

“Oh, honey, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, but I’m tired, and I need a shower. So, why don’t you give him a call, but don’t tell him what for.”

“Yeah, I think it’ll be better if we surprise him with the video, and you want to blackmail him for sex?”

“Oh yes!” That sounds very exciting.

“Wear something sexy.”

“Don’t worry, I will…”

;

^I can go on…

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