An erotic story by Elizabeth Coldwell with mixed themes including romantic erotica, fem sub, BDSM and voyeurism.
Elinor needs peace and quiet to finish her novel, and the isolated cottage seems like the ideal place to work - until she meets her noisy, but annoyingly hot, neighbour. Their battle to establish their own territory takes on an increasingly erotic edge, as dominant Jamie finds a willing partner in submissive Ellie, but are there some lines that shouldn't be crossed?
Returning after one of these walks late one afternoon, I was greeted by an unexpected – and highly arresting – sight. Jason was standing in his garden, naked, cleaning himself down with a hose attached to a pipe which protruded from the water main. I assumed he’d somehow managed to get cement dust on his hair and skin, and was washing it off before he left for the night. I only lingered for a moment, afraid he might turn round and catch me, but unable to stop myself from staring. He had his back to me, and I was granted a perfect view of his tight, round arse and lean thighs, paler than the tanned skin of his torso. It was the kind of body which deserved to be immortalised in marble, and I was sure it would look just as breathtaking from the front. Then, knowing I was intruding on his privacy by spying on him at such an intimate moment, I quickly unlocked my front door and scooted inside.
I dashed straight up to my bedroom and peeled off my jeans and knickers. Seeing Jason’s lack of self-consciousness and complete ease in his own skin as he hosed himself down had woken something in me which had been slumbering since Pete left. Suddenly, I was as horny as I had been in a long time. Lying back on the bed, I eased a gentle finger between my legs, bringing it away slick with my nectar. The touch was nice, making me tingle, but I needed more. Why hadn’t I thought to pack a vibrator along with my underwear and make-up? I would have to rely on my fingers, but I knew they were more than up to the task.
I stroked along my puffy lips, teasing myself for a while. With my eyes closed, I let a fantasy unfold on the screen of my closed eyelids. I pictured Jason as I had just seen him, playing the hose over his naked body, but now he turned so he was facing me. Drops of water glinted in his chest hair. In my greedy, turned-on state, I didn’t stint on his endowment: he displayed an erect cock as thick and lengthy as that of a porn actor.
He dropped the hose, letting it slither away along the ground to gush water in every direction. He grasped his cock and began fisting its length, eyes closed as he enjoyed the sensation. By now, I had two fingers of one hand thrusting in and out of my pussy and the middle finger of the other circling my clit. It had been a while since I had taken the time to really give myself pleasure, and I knew that when I came, it would be with the force of a storm breaking after a long dry spell. Timing the pictures in my mind to perfection, I imagined Jason’s climax gushing forth with all the power of the discarded hose, just at the moment as the waves of orgasmic sensation pushed through my belly. I gasped and shrieked as the gorgeous warmth spread all the way down to my toes. It was only when I flopped back against the bedsheets and opened my eyes once more that I realised the bedroom window was open a crack. I’d been so engrossed in what I was doing I hadn’t actually heard Jason’s van pulling away. Had he been able to overhear me? If so, it was a good thing I had actually stopped short of calling out his name as I came.