To say that it was warm would be the understatement of the year. According to the meteorologists, it was one of the hottest days on record. You might have thought that no one in Britain had seen the sun for a whole year. Yet, it seemed like half the country had taken the day off work, not wanting to worry about the daily commute on cramped trains to sit in hot, stuffy offices with broken air conditioning. Instead, people had back garden barbecues, picnics in parks, and thousands had flocked to sit on overcrowded beaches for a distant glimpse of the sea. Fortunately for children everywhere, it was the summer holidays, and so they, too, were exempt from stuffy classrooms.Sharon, however, found it far too hot and always dreaded the summer in case of high temperatures. She used to have a tried and tested regime of keeping cool on sweltering days — spend as much time in the shower, with as few clothes on as possible, and strategically position as many fans as she could muster around the house.However, there were two minor problems for the last few years — her children. With them around, she could hardly be scantily clad around the house. But this year, now that the boys were old enough, they had joined the local Cub group, and this week was the week of the summer camp, so two days ago, off they went to the New Forest.With the children away, she had hoped she could have spent some time with her husband, but he had to make a last-minute work trip to America. And so the house felt oddly quiet. Also, unfortunately, they had lent several fans to Mrs Davies next door, a frail ninety-year-old woman who suffered in the heat. But, for the first summer in a long time, she could walk around her house in one of the skimpiest outfits she had — a pair of white lacy panties and an old ripped t-shirt, which she’d frequently soak in cold water.There were five houses in Sharon’s little cul-de-sac, all detached and circling a reasonably sized roundabout. Secluded from the rest of the village, each had a gorgeously big garden. Sharon and family lived in no. 1, Mrs Davies in no. 2, a lovely young couple with three very young children in no. 3 who’d gone away to Mallorca, no. 4 was currently for sale, and then there was no. 5. A handsome man recently purchased it and https://escortium.org moved in only a few days ago after months of renovation work.Even though the houses were quite far apart, she still had to be careful. So, before she dressed in her hot weather attire, she went around the house drawing curtains where there were curtains and turning out lights in rooms where there were only nets. Once this was all done, she went upstairs to the bathroom to take a cold shower.It felt welcome, and it only took a few moments for her to feel a lot cooler. A thought flashed through her head — that mysterious new man in no. 5. It was only brief, but she felt a little flushed, her heart beat momentarily faster, her nipples hardened, and she sensed a tingle in her pussy. Lowering the temperature made those feelings subside. What on earth was she thinking? It was far too hot to be thinking about those sorts of thoughts. But still, Mr Number 5 did have a certain charm, even from a distance.She turned off the shower and patted her face dry with a towel leaving the rest of her dripping wet. The house was fully carpeted, so no risk of slippery floors, and she would soon dry off in the heat. By the time she got down to the kitchen, she was already dry.She found butter, cream cheese, and a whole cucumber in the fridge. It was too early to eat, but she thought if she made her lunch now, it would be ready for when she couldn’t be bothered to make it later. So she took two slices of multigrain from the bread bin and spread a thin layer of butter, followed by a thick layer of cream cheese. The cucumber felt cold and solid in her hand, and before slicing it, she caressed her neck with the cool fruit — much like Cindy Crawford did with a Pepsi can.Another image of Mr Number 5 flashed through her mind. This time she let it linger in her thoughts — imagining his fiery red hair, tall, muscular frame and thick hard…She came out of her reverie, not realising that she had started to massage her now wet pussy through her panties with the cucumber. Shit, she thought, washing it off before finishing making the sandwich.With lunch sorted and in the fridge, she decided to take another cold shower. This time, she made sure it was extra cold to quell any naughty thoughts. In this, she was successful.Downstairs again, she went into the front room and collapsed into the sofa in front of a large fan. She turned on the TV and started flicking through channels. Unfortunately, most daytime TV wasn’t high-quality broadcasting — property shows, garden shows, news, reality TV, children’s TV, etc., and so after not too long, Sharon fell asleep. As she gently dozed, she dreamed. She dreamed that Mr Number 5 was with her, caressing her gently, kissing her, then…As she dreamed, her hand made its way down her panties and started rubbing her clit.Little did she know, however, that despite her best-laid plans to stop people looking in, she had an audience. An audience of one — the one person she both did and did not want to see her. Over the road, Robert (Mr Number 5) was assembling some flat-packed furniture in the front bedroom of his new house. He was pretty engrossed in his work, but he decided to take a break and look out of the window at his new street on completing a bedside table. The houses in the cul-de-sac were beautiful Georgian detached houses. All the frontages were original — everything was perfect.And then his eye landed on number 1, where something caught his attention. Or, more specifically, someone. At that angle, he could see over the net curtains, which only covered the bottom half of the windows at the sofa at the back of the room, where, if he was not mistaken, it looked like the woman who lived there was rubbing herself.He had seen her over the last few weeks, and every time he looked over at her, he noticed she turned away. He hadn’t failed to notice the smile every time she did. As he continued to watch her, he felt his cock getting hard, and images started running through his mind — of her beautiful black skin, dripping in sweat from the heat. Her sizable arse and tits, both of which he greatly admired, were waiting to be freed from its clothing. Places to bury his face in, or even his…Maybe this was his opportunity to introduce himself — see what would happen if he caught her off guard. So, he went downstairs, headed over the road, and pressed the doorbell.Inside, Sharon bolted upright, startled by the bell which had hammered its way through her dreams.Fuck, she thought, who could that be? She got up and approached the front door before realising that she was still mostly naked. A large overcoat hung nearby, which she grabbed and threw it on. Hopefully, whoever it was wouldn’t be too long — after only a few seconds, she was boiling.She opened the door and was surprised to see Mr Number 5 on the other side.‘Hi,’ he said with a smile, pleased with how panicked she looked, ‘I’m Robert, your new neighbour.’Sharon tried to answer, but through a mixture of surprise, fear, and panic, all she could muster was, ‘h-h-h-h-hi?’‘I saw you were in and thought this would be the perfect opportunity to introduce myself.’A series of questions ran through her head. He saw that she was in? When? The… fuck, he must have seen me…? Maybe, does he like me? And just like that, she switched from being a panicked mess to hornier than a proverbial bitch in heat.‘Come in,’ she beckoned, ‘please, have a seat in here.’She led him into the front room and directed him to a chair — carefully avoiding the sofa she was using earlier.‘Aren’t you hot?’‘Err, why?’‘In that coat?’‘Oh, yes, I was taking a shower when you knocked — this was the first thing that I grabbed. Give me a moment whilst I go and change. Oh, and I’m Sharon, by the way.’More than anything, knowing what was underneath, he wanted to say not to worry about it but thought she might not feel the same way about him as he did about her. So once she’d left, he went and inspected where she had been lying earlier. It was a leather sofa, and just where she had been, there was a little dribble of her cum. He knelt on the floor and licked it — it tasted good. He hoped for more.He had just gotten back into his chair as Sharon came back. She was wearing a short summer dress, the hem of which was just above her knees.‘Can I get you anything to drink?’ she asked, hoping he would say yes and stay. ’A tea, coffee, beer?’‘I know it’s not even 10 am, but a nice cold beer would be delightful.’‘OK, back in a moment.’She disappeared to the kitchen. Whilst she was gone, Robert looked around the room. Photos of family and friends adorned the walls, as did artworks. One painting, in particular, looked familiar, so he got up to have a closer look. It was an Italian landscape. The Dolomites stood proudly in the background whilst by a wheat field; a solitary, naked woman walked along a path away from a village.