Busted.
The damn garden hoe you’d skimped out on snapped at the base of the handle. It had gotten stuck under a leftover root from a shrub or something. Smaller roots would be easily ripped apart by the high-powered tiller you’d purchased, but this one had to be dug up
You were grateful that your husband helped set up the shed the day before (after it had rained for three days). You had been so eager to get back into the garden, but the blister forming beneath your glove and shitty, broken garden hoe were making you want to go back up to the condo. The root would be there tomorrow, and maybe you could sneak a peek at Justin through the shed window. Garden tools weren’t the only kind of toys you’d snuck into that shed.
You glanced through the window like a Peeping Tom. There he was. Walking around the side of the pool, naked. His muscular ass undulated like he knew you were watching. He stepped up on the diving board. His trimmed cock and balls were on full display as he now faced your direction. You imagined them wet. With water. Or in your mouth. Or in your aching pussy. Or lubed up, sliding into your ass. Filling you with a pool of cum wherever you wanted. He jumped from the board, diving into the pool.
You scrambled like you would for a sloppy, half-drunk quick fuck. The shed was hot, and you couldn’t wait to get your clothes off. You switched on the fan, thankful that the solar panels had enough juice already to run try to cool you off. You were basically naked. The crotchless leather panties and strap-bra. You reached into what you had already started to call “the toolbox and grabbed a double-dildo and lube. You took another glance out the window and could see him walking to the diving board again, his cock was semi-erect. Fuck if you didn’t want to run over there and swallow it, take it into your throat. As you leaned forward, peeping through the window, you squeezed lube onto your fingers and massaged it onto your tight asshole.
You sat down in the chair on top of a towel. You squeezed more lube into your hand and smeared it all over the double-dildo. The appendage for your ass was slender and smooth with a rounded tip, and the one for your pussy was girthy like a large cock and shaped like one. It had a powerful vibrator inside. Both appendages were the same length. You positioned it and felt the toy press against your holes. As you imagined Justin opening the shed door, the toy entered you.
One part slid in and out with extreme ease, and the other shook you from the inside. You imagined it was his finger in your backdoor, and his cock filling your cunt. You imagined him pulling out and commanding you to bend over and stick your ass in the air. You imagined not knowing where he would put up with all options available. You could feel the climax coming. Would his tongue flick your clit? Or would he shove it in your ass? Would his fingers find their way into your pussy as he licked your asshole? Or would he shove his long cock inside you? Hard? Which fucking hole… Fuck! You felt yourself trembling. You tried to hold in your squirt but couldn’t. You tried to silence your scream, but a small moan still slipped out. You came furiously and thought you might pass out in the heat and lust of it all.
“Excuse me?” you heard from outside, not far from the shed. The feminine, and agitated voice, was unfamiliar – not Lindley.
You scrambled again. Sliding the toy out of you was uncomfortable, and you were still sensitive as you hadn’t come down from cumming that hard. You flicked the toy’s power switch off and wrapped it in the towel in a crumpled heap on the chair. You snatched your shirt and quickly slid it on.
“Um,” you heard again, “Excuse me? Is anyone here?” The voice was more aggravated this time.
“One moment!” you called out, practically between breaths. You grabbed your shorts. You could feel and sweat sticking inside your thighs making the shorts hard to get on. You fastened them. Took a breath, and walked to the door. You were about to push it open when the light assaulted your eyes as the door flew open, not of your accord. You stepped back, slammed your eyes shut, and squinted. Whoever this bitch was, this was not a good start to whatever relationship you might have.
“Um, hello,” she snapped.”Who are you?”
Your eyes adjusted, and you shook your head. When you opened them, you could see a slender, attractive brunette about your age – maybe a little older. “Your on my property, opening a building that doesn’t belong to you,” you fired back.”Who are you?”
“I asked you first,” she snapped.
“I’m an attorney, and that’s not how it works when you’re trespassing,” you retorted. She stepped back, realizing she was blocking you in the shed. The look on her face changed for a moment when you said “attorney” which intrigued you. You stepped out of the shed. Fuck, it was bright. You weren’t sure if you had just been in the shed, fucking yourself and dreaming of Justin that long, or if you were still in an orgasmic high. You did feel tingly all-over and sticky in between your thighs. “Now, who are you and what can I do for you?”
“Um,” she said, stammering a little, “I’ve noticed you looking over at my house.” She stepped back again and crossed her arms like she was halfway to pouting like a spoiled child. “I don’t appreciate it.”
“That I,” you began, “occasionally look over at my neighbor’s house while i’m working in my garden?”
“Yes!” she said. “I don’t appreciate it.” She was clearly a brat. “It seems like your peeping through the windows, which is totally illegal. You’re a lawyer, you should know that.”
“Listen,” you started, wondering if she was hinting at your spying on Justin, “ma’am…”
“Ew,” she said, “Don’t call me ‘ma’am.’” Her face contorted into a scowl. “I’m 32, not 62.”
“Good for you,” you quipped. “What’s your name? What should I call you?”
“Stacy,” she snapped. “My name is Stacy Greene.”
“Ok,” you said, “Stacy. Are you worried that I’m looking to trespass? Burglarize you?” You paused. “See something I shouldn’t see?”
She glanced over to the backyard. She looked back at you, then looked back for a moment or two longer than the first glance. Obviously, Justin was doing something you were interested in seeing, but you were trying to retain your composure – even as you could feel lube leaking out of your pussy and ass. The post-orgasm sensitivity had worn off. She looked back at you. “Um, no. Not that I can think of,” she replied like someone selfishly hoarding a secret.
“Well, my husband is also an attorney working at a large firm downtown. We live in the condos behind me. If you don’t want to accept my explanation that I’m doing nothing wrong, would I need to get him to explain it to you?”
The cracks in her brat armor started to appear. She looked at the condos for a moment. She knew they were expensive. She knew that either you, your husband, or both made a lot of money. And she didn’t want to say what she was looking at over the fence. You could see that she was… intimidated wasn’t the right word… attentive. Intrigued, even.
“However,” you began, “I’m sure you’re willing to take my word for it.” You wondered if Lindley was watching. Stacey nodded. “Now, why don’t we try that introduction again?” you asked, extending your hand. You didn’t exactly have time to wash them after playing with your pussy. “It’s nice to meet you, Stacy,” you said with a smile. She shook your had, and you introduced yourself.
She tried to be pleasant, as pleasant as a brat could be, as you explained your plans for the lot. She didn’t offer too much about herself at first, but she then opened right up. She told you about moving to the city for college, meeting Mr. Greene and his son, and gave a healthy dose of complaining along the life-story. You smiled a nodded, but not in a way that appeared disinterested. Suddenly, you had started to imagine taming this little brat as a side-project. She’d bitch about the neighbors, and you imagined putting a ball-gag in her mouth. She’d complain about her step-son, and you’d imagine him bringing home coeds from the nearby college bars. She’d complain about her husband, and you’d imagine her catching you in the future garden with him, surrounded by grapevines on trellises. You’d make her strip down, sit down, and watch as you pleased him. You liked that thought very much.
You also found yourself admiring her figure. Large, but not too large, breasts. Beautifully curved hips and ass, excellent for spanking. Slim, yoga-toned waist and core. She was pretty in the way that someone who spends this much time caring about looking like a trophy wife would. That appeared to be what she was. Mr. Greene’s trophy for something vanilla (like a bowling league or work softball tournament) that his son would admire from time to time; otherwise unused except for bragging rights or as a toy that wasn’t supposed to be played with. That piqued your curiosity. Then you blurted it out as she was complaining about both her husband and step-son.
“Stacy,” you said, “as an attorney, I keep some secrets for a living.” You looked over at the pool of her house that Justin was lounging naked beside, starting his masturbation-in-the-sun ritual. You looked long enough to make sure she looked too. You looked back at her, and she was bratty-furious. “I’m sure that I haven’t seen anything too shocking, but,” you paused. Your tone carried authority, and you walked over to her. “May I put my hand here?” you asked, like a good dom would. She nodded, consenting. You placed your hand on her exposed shoulder. “If you want to discuss something else – a secret – you think I might have seen, why don’t we head over to the shed.” You motioned over to the pool, “Before he sees anything that might give him something to dwell on for his afternoon swim.”
Getting her in the shed was easy enough. Exploring her unused potential once inside was even easier. She was just shorter than you, and a soft kiss on her eager lips with your hand behind her head made her melt like butter for you. For the second kiss, your hand was on her throat and pushing her back against the wall. You felt the goosebumps come over her. This wasn’t going to be about you, exactly, but goosebumps wouldn’t be the only part of her coming in that warm shed.
Her clothes came off easily enough – easier than the country-club wife back home. A little dirt and dust would stick to all that black she was wearing, but she had to wear it back to her house, not you. You spun her around to face the hard, plywood wall – a primer for the rough experience she was about to have. You gently kissed down her spine to her round, soft-skinned ass. It was perfectly bitable like a sweet peach, which you did. Not too hard though, you didn’t know her boundaries yet. Brats like to be tamed, but not all in the same way. She squealed a little, but not in pain.
You stood back up, held her throat and chin in one hand to pull her head back, and explained how she had been bad and deserved a spanking. You asked her if she agreed. “Yes,” she said.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered.
You smacked her left cheek, hard. “Again?”
“Yes ma’am,” she said louder.
“See,” you said, “I’m 31, and I think it’s perfectly sexy to be called ma’am.” You smacked her ass again. “Few things get me as wet as that.” Again. “Do you want me to be wet?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she agreed.
“Good girl,” you said. A smile stretched across her face and she bit her lip like a good little brat.
You spanked her until her ass was red, but not enough to bruise. You rewarded her for accepting her punishment by caressing her skin softly, telling her how good she was, and teasing her pussy with your fingers.
You made her kneel on the floor and you grabbed a vibrator from your toy box. You handed her the toy, and sat back in the chair. You made her crawl to you. “Lick my pussy until I tell you to stop. Make yourself cum with that vibrator while you do it.”
She crawled to you. Who knew that one of your new favorite toys would like next door and not be the ex-college swimmer? You were already wondering though: did she deserve to have you, Justin, and her husband? Or should you take something for yourself? In that thought, a seed was planted.
[To be continued]
[Parts 1 and 2 on my page]
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/v1717f/trellises_and_trysts_part_3_cheatingggvoyeurism