Lust Call by Ray Gordon Page B

me the way I’d betrayed him, I knew as I looked around the marital bedroom. His dressing gown was hanging on the back of the door, a pair of his trousers were folded over the chair. He was away earning money, and I’d betrayed him. I hauled myself out of bed and gazed out of the window. The sun was shining, the birds singing . . . And guilt was swamping me.
    Apart from the guilt of my betrayal, I was worried silly over the identity of my secret admirer. The alcohol had left me and I felt refreshed after sleeping, making my thinking clearer. Whoever was spying on me could obviously see me when I was in the front garden. There were probably a dozen houses with a view of my garden, which narrowed things down a little. But there was also the question of my email address. No one could have guessed it, and I’d certainly not given it to anyone. But, someone knew what it was.
    To make myself feel better, I showered and dressed in a miniskirt and blouse and then went down to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. All I could think about was Derek and my adulterous act as I switched the computer on. I’d been stupid, I reflected dolefully. I’d got the wrong man, I’d opened my legs to Derek and . . . There was an email from Brian. Taking a deep breath, I opened it and started reading.
    Hello, my horny little angel,
    Have you shaved your pussy for me? It’s a lovely day so why don’t you slip into a short skirt and do a little gardening? Don’t wear knickers beneath your skirt because I’d like to see your sweet crack as you squat down in the garden. I’ll be watching you, and wanking like mad.
    Brian.
    After deleting the email, I took my coffee out to the back garden and sat on a patio chair beneath the summer sun. The situation was ridiculous, I thought anxiously. Someone was watching me, spying on me, and I felt as though I was being hounded by a stalker. At least I was safe on the patio. The garden was surrounded by bushes and trees, so there was no way anyone could spy on me. Whoever it was could only see the front of the house, and they had to be watching me from a window. All I had to do was devise a plan to trap them and . . .
    â€˜Morning, Sarah,’ the man from next door called over the fence.
    â€˜Hi, Barry,’ I said, realising that he might be the culprit. He was in his forties and married, and had always been friendly. He could easily spy on me from an upstairs front window, I mused. ‘How are you?’ I asked him, placing my coffee cup on the table and wandering over to the fence.
    â€˜I’m fine. I have a couple of weeks off so I’m doing some DIY. It’s too hot to be working inside, but Jilly wants the kitchen decorated.’
    â€˜I’ve not seen her for a while, how is she?’
    â€˜She’s OK. Her mother isn’t too good so she spends her days helping her out. What are you up to? Anything exciting?’
    â€˜No, not really. Dave’s on a photo shoot in Morocco, so I’ve been tidying up the front garden to keep myself busy. Looking at the weeds, I think I’ll have a go at the back garden.’
    â€˜It’s that rain we had a couple of weeks back,’ he said, eyeing the cleavage of my firm breasts. ‘Now the sun’s out, the weeds have gone mad.’
    â€˜I’ve got nothing else to do so I’ll make a start now,’ I said as he looked down at my short skirt, my naked thighs.
    â€˜You’ll get quite a suntan working out here. Anyway, I’d better get on.’
    â€˜OK, Barry. Don’t get too hot indoors.’
    â€˜I won’t. And you be a good girl while Dave’s away,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I’ll see you later.’
    Be a good girl? I mused as he went back into his house. Why had he said that? What had he meant? I was becoming paranoid, I thought as I grabbed a hand fork from the shed. There was no point suspecting anyone and everyone. There again,