Agreeable Neighbours

By Ted Brandwood

This tale is about kinky sex and the narrator’s growing addiction to it as he joins in BDSM orgies, sharing masochistic Tricia and Ann with their husbands. As the ‘drug’ takes hold he never misses an opportunity to indulge.
When Tricia is cast aside by her husband and turns to him for help, he takes full advantage of her submissiveness, but a surprise awaits him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: House of Erotica
• Release date: Oct 6, 2016
• ISBN: 9781785385889

Book preview

coincidental.

1

Following the breakup of my five-year long relationship with Janet, I left the apartment we shared in the city and moved to a small town a few miles away. I had been in my new home about a month, just long enough to become acquainted with my neighbours, when the saga began. There were four apartments on our level, the second floor, two on each side of the central corridor. Each apartment was the reverse mirror image of the one next to it with the living-rooms and a kitchen off on one side, kept well apart to reduce annoyance from a neighbour’s noise. Between these day-time areas were the bedrooms, two in each apartment. A shower room and loo stood between the bedrooms.

I had encountered my next-door neighbours a couple of times in the corridor and exchanged brief pleasantries. She was a fairly small woman, slightly overweight and rather plain looking beneath the excessive make-up. I guessed her to be in her mid-thirties, or perhaps a little older. She was a bottle-blond whose most striking features were big, sad eyes and rather thick lips, the latter covered in bright carmine coloured lipstick. She wore the sort of short skirt I normally associate with teenagers, and blouses with a deep neckline revealing a rather extensive amount of cleavage that drew the eye to it. Mutton dressed as lamb was a phrase that came to mind. The man was slightly older than his wife, a big chap and fairly dour looking. Not the sort to cross without due care, I would have thought. Neither one of the pair appeared interesting to me.

However, my interest in them was stirred one night when, at about midnight, I was wakened by a woman’s cry piercing the dividing wall between the apartments. I at first thought that my neighbour had stubbed her toe or had some similar minor accident, but there it was again. Fully awake now I started to listen carefully. After a couple of minutes she let out another yell. Was her husband beating her? I sat up in bed and pressed my ear to the wall. There was a sudden cracking sound followed by another cry. The dividing walls were not as thick as they should be perhaps, so when I heard the sound again, followed by a similar cry, I realised that she was being struck with something, possibly a whip or a belt.

Now, I must confess to being something of a fan of porn videos on the net, particularly those featuring BDSM, and Janet had not been averse to a little bondage on occasions. One of my favourite films is The Story of ‘O’ which I have watched several times and have a copy of on DVD. Therefore, I recognised what was going on next door. The session they were clearly having lasted about a half-hour, during which I listened to every sound with growing interest. So, she was not the boring little woman I had taken her for, and her husband was clearly more interesting than I had thought. My interest in the pair grew by the minute, as did my erection as I visualised the scene.

For the next few weeks the neighbours unknowingly entertained me periodically with their games. Sometimes I heard the man laugh and speak to her, though I couldn’t tell what he said. I considered buying a stethoscope with which to hear more clearly. Occasionally there was the cracking sound of a whip, but not always. Ever present though, was the woman’s cries of anguish, so he was finding ways other than whipping to chastise her. The possible alternatives were left to my imagination.

One Saturday afternoon my doorbell rang at about three in the afternoon. When I opened the door I was surprised to see that it was the woman rom the next apartment who unknowingly entertained me. She apologised for disturbing me and asked if I could help her. The electricity in her apartment had suddenly cut out and she didn’t know if a fuse had blown and she was afraid to mess around with anything electrical. Her husband was away for the weekend. Did I know what to do? I closed my door behind me and followed her into her apartment. Investigation showed that a fuse had cut out and it was a simple matter to reconnect. Concerned that it could cut out again I asked her what she had been doing when it went. She had been boiling her electric kettle to make tea. I told her to put the kettle back on to see if it would blow the fuse again. It didn’t.

As I went to leave she put her hand on my arm. ‘Please, the least I can do is to ask you to share my tea. I would have been stuck without your help.’ I assured her that I was only too happy to help, and her gratitude was not necessary, but she insisted. I sat down in an easy chair while she returned to the kitchen and brewed the tea. She came back with a small tray bearing two mugs of tea and a small plate of biscuits, then seated herself in the chair opposite. We exchanged small-talk for a few minutes, discussing inconsequential matters.

She wore a white, cotton blouse with long sleeves that reached down to the wrist. Whenever she reached forward for her tea or a biscuit an expanse of cleavage attracted my eye, despite efforts not to be drawn. Also, as she stretched out a hand the sleeve of her blouse rode up to expose a bruise that circled her wrist. I could barely take my eyes off it, and she eventually realised what I was staring at. To my surprise she made no effort to hide it. She smiled. ‘I see that you are wondering how I got the bruise.’ She stretched out the other arm, showing that it too was marked.

I saw little point in pretending ignorance. ‘No, I can guess how you got them. The walls between our apartments are pretty thin.’ She appeared puzzled for a moment before her smile became a grin. ‘I take it your husband bruised you.’

She laughed. ‘I hope we haven’t kept you awake with our games.’

‘You did, but it was entertaining.’

‘By the way, Paul isn’t my husband. My husband would never have entertained you. He certainly didn’t me. I left David over two years ago to move in with Paul. David bored me with his timidity, while Paul didn’t. We had no children, so it wasn’t a problem.’

‘Except for your husband, perhaps.’

‘You haven’t met David. He probably didn’t notice I had gone. Let me tell you how it happened, given that we clearly don’t have any secrets from you. By the way, do you press your ear to the wall when you listen?’

I thought I was beyond blushing, but my pink face answered her question, making her laugh again. She appeared incapable of embarrassment. ‘David and Paul were mates who grew up together in the same district. They remained friends after we left the area, but God knows why. Paul visited us a couple of times, staying the weekend because he lived some miles away. We would all go out for a drink on Saturday night, and I would go to bed while the men talked about whatever interested them. Anyhow, one week-end, David had to work because of some emergency. He left early in the morning and I got up to give him his breakfast. After he had gone Paul came downstairs and sat at the dining table while I prepared his breakfast in the kitchen. Having got up early to see David off I had not dressed and was wearing only my cotton nightdress and a towelling dressing gown that had a tied belt round the waist. As I moved to and from the table I noticed that Paul was eyeing me up in a funny way. Then, as I leaned over him to clear his plate he suddenly took hold of the belt and pulled it so that my dressing gown fell open.’

‘What did you do?’

‘Nothing, I was so surprised. Underneath the gown my nightdress was quite flimsy so not much was left to the imagination. I wasn’t wearing a bra, or anything. I just froze, staring at him as he squeezed my breast. When I didn’t resist, he stood up, picked me up like a rag doll and carried me through to the bedroom. He threw me on the bed without a word, drew the nightie up to my neck and began mauling me.’

‘Didn’t you try to fight him off?’

‘No. To be honest, he was handling me in a way that David wouldn’t know how to. I was really turned on. Then he more or less raped me. Afterwards, he got ready to leave as calmly as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.’

‘More or less?’

‘Well, I didn’t put up a fight.’

‘What did you do? Did you tell your husband?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. I stayed in the bedroom until I heard Paul’s car drive away, then I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. When Paul realised I hadn’t said a word to my husband he started coming round when he knew David was away working. I couldn’t wait for those visits and used to visit him whenever I had the chance.’

‘Was he married?’

‘No, he lived with a woman who he treated even rougher than he did me. Vera was into masochism in a big way. Paul told me that she had initiated the sort of thing they got up to by asking him to whip her on their first night together. Sometimes he tied her up and made her watch while we screwed. He left her when I left David.’

‘How long did your affair last?’

She smiled again. ‘It seems funny, you calling it an affair. I didn’t fall for Paul or feel romantic towards him. Nor did he fall for me. It was pure lust driving us both. The way he treated me was so exciting, dangerous, perhaps, that David’s feeble efforts left me untouched.