Neighbourhood Watch (12 page)

‘Maybe we want you to undress us?’ Rhona suggested.

The idea triggered another burst of horny need deep in Megan’s loins. She drew a faltering breath and then turned away from the couple. The kitchen door closed softly behind her but, rather than heading across the hall and up the stairs, she lingered for a moment to catch her breath and get her bearings. Because she stood so close to the kitchen door she could hear the conversation inside the room.

‘Didn’t I tell you this would work?’ Charlie asked Rhona. ‘Didn’t I say that this level of cunning was needed for us to have a proper chance at getting to grips with the delightful Megan McMurray?’

‘You were right,’ Rhona agreed. Her voice was lowered: not whispering – Megan didn’t think Rhona
was
capable of whispering – but it was soft enough to imply discretion. ‘My idea to simply approach her wouldn’t have worked,’ Rhona continued.

Megan strained to hear more.

‘But your devious plan, making her think she’d been propositioned with that silly letter for the fat girl at number two, and then pretending it was all a big misunderstanding: it’s worked like a charm. You really are a master of the Machiavellian.’

Listening to them, Megan quietly seethed. And plotted her revenge.

Eleven

8 Cedar View

JANE WAITED OUTSIDE
while Denise opened the door of her house. Denise had insisted that Jane needed one more thing to complete her outfit but she refused to say anything more.

‘What is it?’ Jane pressed.

Denise shook her head. Her grin was broad and curled with the prospect of mischief. ‘I’m not going to tell you. I’m going to show you. You’d say no if I just told you, but you won’t be able to refuse if you see it, I promise you that.’

Jane stared at her, mystified. She adjusted the eye-mask she had decided to wear to the party, in case her identity needed preserving, and gestured to Denise to hurry up.

Glancing at the closed garage door, she remembered Denise’s concern about the scratched paintwork on Derek’s car. Shaking her head slightly, amazed that Denise should be so upset over such a trifling matter, she wondered if she should offer some advice for a solution. The problem would never have arisen in her house. She would have simply declared it was John’s fault. She didn’t know why Denise couldn’t employ the same strategy on Derek. If she had damaged John’s vehicle in any way, even if she had done it deliberately
by
scraping an awl across the bonnet to gouge the words
BORING FUCKER
, she would have still argued that it was his fault. And it was an argument she knew she would have won.

All Denise needed to do was tell Derek he had parked his car in the wrong spot or at an awkward or inconvenient angle. If he demanded compensation, she would counterclaim for the scratched handlebar and any other damage to her bike. To Jane’s mind, there would be no way for Derek to win the argument. And, if Denise really did want Derek to provide her with a baby, she could use the argument to make her demands known and negotiate his co-operation. If the couple were having a volatile row concerning a scratch on his car, Denise could use the momentum of the argument to tell Derek that he should either do his duty as a husband or pack his bags and piss off. Looking away from the garage door, Jane made a mental note to mention those points to Denise when she returned. She expected her friend would be pleased to have all her marriage problems resolved with the single, easy solution of browbeating her husband into submission.

The usually quiet Cedar View was surprisingly busy this evening. Cars she didn’t recognise lined the kerb. She suspected the majority of them had arrived with guests for the party at Ted and Linda’s. There was an unreasonable amount of noise coming from number six and, if she hadn’t been planning to attend the party, Jane would have considered phoning the local police station to register a complaint. But that wasn’t something to worry about this evening. She heard Denise’s footsteps and Jane turned to smile at her friend as she stepped out of the house and offered the fruit of her search.

‘You’re kidding,’ Jane marvelled.

‘Wear it,’ Denise insisted. ‘You know you want to.’

‘I thought you’d gone back to get condoms,’ Jane muttered.

Denise laughed and pushed a fistful of condoms into Jane’s hand. ‘I brought some for you,’ she said. ‘I’m thinking I might do this party bareback.’ Her eyes softened with a moment’s sadness as she added, ‘Derek isn’t giving me what I want on the baby front. Maybe someone at tonight’s party could oblige.’ She shook her head suddenly and smiled to show she wasn’t trying to be maudlin. ‘But here,’ she said, pushing her main gift towards Jane. ‘You’ve got to wear this. You’ve got to put it on now. This is just what you need for the party.’

She could have declined, Jane thought, or pretended it wasn’t something she would have the courage to wear, but she couldn’t bring herself to show any modesty or hesitation. Snatching the gift from Denise’s hand she said, ‘Help me put it on. I’m going to love wearing this.’

Giggling and doing as she had been asked, Denise said, ‘Do you know, I think this is going to be one hell of a party.’

Twelve

6 Cedar View

IT WAS PROVING
to be a hell of a party, Linda thought, the best she had ever hosted. Passion and promiscuity filled every niche of the house. Since her sandwich experience with Ted and Phil and discovering Joanne had acquired a gimp, the night had become an extravaganza of sexy fun, shocks and revelations. It didn’t matter that her preciously pumped lips had quickly deflated: they had impressed Ted and Phil and the heightened sensitivity had made for a memorable beginning to the evening. Consoling herself that she could pump them up again whenever she wanted to enjoy the same effect, Linda threw herself into the role of a good hostess.

Connie and Corrine, two of her work colleagues, had arrived from the office. They surprised Linda with the announcement that they had been swinging for years and expressed incredulity at not having previously bumped into her ‘through the scene’. She welcomed the pair enthusiastically and introduced them to a handful of other guests as the party began to swell. Attractive women, dark-skinned, exotic and exciting, they hugged each other intimately as they mingled. Linda wondered whether it was sensible to have sex with colleagues or if that would have repercussions in
the
arena of office politics, but before she could make up her mind she lost track of them as they paired off with another couple. It was a temporary solution to her dilemma, but Linda felt sure the issue would resurface before the night was ended.

Passing the pool she watched Joanne cane the backside of her gimp as the submissive male was forced to lick pussy after pussy after pussy. Joanne looked resplendent in her thigh-high boots and dominatrix outfit. Linda had thought the woman didn’t have the cruelty to be a proper disciplinarian, but now, seeing how Joanne mistreated her subordinate, she wondered if she should revise that opinion. She toyed with the idea of how much fun she could have on the suffering end of Joanne’s crop, but quickly put the thought aside as it filled her with a rush of conflicting urges.

Linda had no idea who Joanne’s gimp might be, but she couldn’t ever recall seeing a man so aroused by such humiliation. A huge length protruded from one of the zippered slits at the front of his gimp suit. His flesh strained with obvious urgency each time he was presented with a fresh cleft to devour. A string of pre-come trailed from the end of his shaft but Joanne offered him no opportunity for release or relief.

Unable to draw her gaze away, Linda continued to watch the gimp, envying his predicament. Joanne didn’t show any signs of approval of her subordinate’s behaviour: she simply insulted him and threatened to remove his mask and expose him. Linda stayed long enough to watch Joanne push her buttocks into the gimp’s face while a cheering crowd urged him to lick her anus. Linda wondered if Ted would ever allow her to wear a gimp suit and let her be used with such cruel disregard. The thought made her stomach churn with sudden longing. For an instant she was so jealous of
the
gimp she simply wanted to push him away and take over his role as the party’s toy. The idea sent fresh warmth coursing through her pussy muscles. It was time to take a break from the intensity of the party and get a breath of fresh air.

Ordinarily Ted and Linda’s parties seldom saw more than a dozen couples, and usually Linda had to field calls throughout the evening from guests apologising for their absence. But this evening it seemed that everyone they had invited had arrived, many of them bringing unexpected extras. Singles, couples and triples barred her way and she had to weave through an undulating orgy of bodies and decline several suggestive propositions.

Thanks to the hectic pace of the evening, Linda hadn’t been able to remember everyone’s name. It was one of her personal rules that she never did anything with anyone unless she knew their full name. It crossed her mind that the rule would have to be revised if she ever took the gimp’s position, and the thought almost paralysed her with the rush of lust it inspired. She fought her way outside into the cool air of the back garden.

Night had taken hold of Cedar View. The chill breeze was welcome on her bare body. Not caring that she was naked and outdoors, only relieved to be away from the claustrophobic atmosphere of the party, she took a deep breath and closed the conservatory door. Glancing around the still garden she spotted a solitary figure at the barbecue table and smiled apologetically. Hesitating, she asked, ‘Is it OK to join you out here?’

‘It’s your garden.’

‘I didn’t want to intrude.’

‘Are you the lady who left me the sandwiches and the beer?’

Lowering her gaze, she nodded.

‘Are you the same lady who always leaves me sandwiches and beer?’

‘And tissues,’ she said, nodding at the box beside the plate. FOR MEN was written across the side of the box and for some reason the words made her smile. Tom thanked her for her kindness and assured her she wasn’t intruding. Linda took a seat next to his and glanced up at the stars above. The wooden slats were chilly against her bare buttocks but she didn’t mind. After the insane heat of the party the coolness of the night was a balm to her sweaty skin. The music remained loud enough to be irritating but, away from its immediate bellow, she felt as though her senses were being allowed a brief but much needed respite.

Looking at Tom she asked, ‘How’s the view been this evening?’ The concern that he might have been masturbating, and that he could be embarrassed by her nearness, made her determined to show some consideration. Hoping he wasn’t uncomfortable with her nudity, she studied his shaded gaze for a moment longer, trying to work out if he was looking at her eyes or her bare breasts. But Tom was only a shadow, darker than those that surrounded him. The deepening night made it impossible for her to see what he was looking at.

‘It’s been entertaining,’ Tom told her. ‘You certainly know how to throw a good party.’

She sniffed. ‘Ted organises the invites. I just greet the guests and point them towards the canapés.’ Glancing through the window of the conservatory, admiring the brightly lit alternate reality where the pool was populated with naked and near-naked couples, she asked, ‘What have you seen so far?’

‘I’ve seen enough to make my hair curl,’ he grunted. Pointing, he asked, ‘Who’s that fellow in the leather body suit? The one Joanne is dragging round on a lead like he’s her shiny pet mongrel?’

Linda laughed. The sound surprised her. During the evening she had heard herself sigh with gratitude, moan with satisfaction and scream with orgasm. But this was the first time she had heard herself laugh. She felt warmer towards Tom. Rather than wondering whether he had noticed her nakedness, she needed to know that he had and that she excited him. Restraining herself from asking the question outright, she forced her thoughts back to the conversation and glanced at Joanne’s guest.

‘I don’t know who he is. Jo said he was her gimp and –’

‘Gimp?’

Linda shrugged. ‘It’s an American term, I think. It’s their word for someone who’s sexually submissive and gets pleasure from being an anonymous plaything to anyone and everyone.’

‘Gimp.’ Tom turned the word over as though savouring it. ‘And no one knows who he is?’

‘I guess Jo might know,’ Linda admitted. ‘But I think she’s the only one.’

‘Joanne’s gimp should give disguise lessons to that silly cow with the eye-mask and the false cock.’

Again, Linda heard herself laugh. Tom’s frank appraisal of the situation mirrored so many of her own thoughts that she wouldn’t have been surprised to learn he was a mindreader.

‘If Jane Smith thinks she’s fooling anyone with that disguise, let’s hope she never decides to rob a bank or do something where she really needs to hide her identity.’

Linda laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her face. The image of Jane Smith robbing a bank in her stockings, suspenders, silly eye-mask and strap-on cock was thoroughly absurd. Almost as absurd as Jane’s evident conviction that no one at the
party
knew who she was. Linda wiped the back of her hand delicately against her eyes, trying not to smudge her mascara as she brushed the tears away. It wasn’t nice to bitch about her neighbours and party guests, but some of them asked to be criticised.

‘Why are you out here?’ Tom asked.

‘I needed a break,’ Linda said eventually. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I love everything that’s happening in there. I love the excitement and the thrill and the daring.’ She fanned her bare breasts with one hand and wondered if he was going to shift his position and give her an indication that he was moved by her nudity. To her frustration, Tom remained maddeningly still. ‘I just needed to spend ten minutes away from the excitement to catch my breath.’

They remained in silence for a moment. Tom munched a sandwich and took a swig of beer. Glancing at his lap Linda realised with annoyance that shadows from the night and the table made it impossible for her to see if he was touching himself. The idea that he might be masturbating had stirred a small thrill in her loins. Now, realising she wasn’t going to find out one way or the other, she felt as though she had been cheated of a rare and special treat.