Mandy no substitute for Marilyn in a sexy threesome

The smile on my lips turned to horror when Melissa suggested her friend Mandy would be up for a good time. I wanted Marilyn, longed to hold her close, her sexy performances across the courtyard each evening had driven me to distraction and were forged in my brain. Her beauty, her sexuality, the way that she gave herself completely was so erotic that I could think of nothing else.

I made an excuse about Mandy – she was someone we both knew well so would feel awkward, my leg wasn’t up to it yet, didn’t Mandy have a boyfriend? I had to be careful as I was in danger of protesting too much. Thankfully Melissa was working that evening – or at least she told me she was – and so the threat was avoided. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t have given Mandy one, it was just I was hoping to engineer a threesome with Marilyn. At least I had placed the camera and microphone in Melissa’s bag so I hoped to find out something, anything about Marilyn and the mystery man.

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That evening I was sitting alone as usual, Melissa at work, and I had my trusty binoculars at the ready, waiting for any sign of interesting life, preferably of a sexual nature, to occur within my field of vision. There were plenty of folks about as it was a warm evening and it didn’t take long to catch a piece of action as the married couple on the ground floor opposite stood in their garden getting slowly and quietly sloshed on plonk and then groping and snogging with each other in a “let’s act like teenagers” kind of way. To be fair Susan was fit, though her husband didn’t help make the whole thing that erotic given his scruffy appearance and portly figure. But Susan was fit. She was wearing a short sleeved top knotted above the waist and revealing some toned midriff. Her bottom was displayed prominently and perfectly in some cut off denim shorts and I loved the way that she bounced around the small garden bare footed, her blonde locks blowing around in the breeze.

Every so often she would go up to him and kiss him languorously and soft, their love in would have been a bit sickly if she didn’t also occasionally stand in the doorway a couple of feet inside the house where she clearly thought she was hidden and flash him a look at her firm, upward pointing breasts. She had definitely had a boob job – she looked fantastic, sexy, alluring and oh so hot but the fat bloke just stood back and didn’t take advantage. He must be mad I thought; if my leg was ok I’d be over there like a shot.

Continued on Friday – Silk Stocking Stories.