Tuesday Morning … Part 1

Originally titled Coffee and one for the addicts/lovers… sort of. As ever I hope you enjoy…



Sometimes I wonder if we are made up of all our little rituals.

They can be quite simple and harmless like brushing your teeth or whether the milk goes in the mug before or after the coffee. I’m a ‘black and sweet’ type of man. We’ve been living in this house for almost two decades and maybe I’ve got it just how I like it, doesn’t apply to my wife or kids for that matter although continual change may actually be a stasis of some kind for others… or maybe not!

Still, the re-decoration and continual upgrading of connection and hardware (for the kids) doesn’t bother me much; I have my office where I work from for the first half of the week and I have Tuesday mornings.

Tuesday mornings are the cornerstone of my life although it was perhaps just recently I realised that and only recently too when I realised how fragile they were. Fragile and precious, two characteristics that are often associated with each other and at the same time has me wondering why we attach such importance to such breakable objects or events or people.

For the past six years every Tuesday I’ve had coffee with Hani, my next door neighbour, something generally South American and the perusal of the weekends papers before they are dispatched to the re-cycle bins and/or generally watching the neighbourhood from the viewpoint of her conservatory. Hani’s life as opposed to mine is seemingly less ordered with the shift work she does but it rotates around a monthly rota and after we shared the odd Tuesday morning at first she adjusted her schedule that we would manage at least three out of four in any given month. I guess it helped as head nurse she was in charge of the Off-Duty.

Hani and Adam moved in next door fifteen years ago with their little girl and soon after a baby boy also appeared and the four of us adults and four children have been the best of friend since. Neither of our spouses commented about our Tuesday morning coffees and if either them were free they would join us also. There was nothing to comment upon, we were just the best of friends. We have similar senses of humour although others might call it sarcasm and were different enough in other characteristics that we rarely ran dry of conversation.

Our Tuesday coffee mornings were a cornerstone to our week; it was almost four weeks ago perhaps that the safe and familiar changed and I’m not totally sure what into!


The first Tuesday of June…

I looked out my back door and although the weather forecast said it was going to be hot the clouds in the sky looked like they could go either way. I pulled the door behind me and locked it before walking the few steps to the fence and pulling back the panel that the kids had insisted upon so many years earlier and stepped into the neighbour’s garden. Looking into Adam and Hani’s conservatory/kitchen it was impossible to tell if there was anyone home.

I took the few short steps up to the French doors and tried the handle and then proceeded to unlock it and stepped onto the white tiled floor that extended into the depth of the house forming one large room comprising kitchen/dining/conservatory. “Han” I shouted through the house and waited for a moment to see if there was a response. The house remained silent except for the echo of my own voice; Adam and the kids having already left for work and school and Hani obviously not having returned from her night shift.

I deposited the Sunday Times on the small table adjacent a wicker couch and set about making the coffee in a kitchen that was almost as familiar as my own. The machine happily chugged away and produced a large steaming pot of Brazilian coffee which I placed on the table with milk for Hani and sugar for me before settling down and picking up the Guardian on Sunday that my neighbours had left on the side. It was easily fifteen minutes before I heard the key in the door and called out “Hi, Honey.”

I heard a bag dropped in the hall and the habitual reply from Hani, “Hey Sugar!”

She walked through the door dressed in her dark blue smock top with name badge, pens and fob watch attached and a pair of green theatre trousers above her rubber clogs. I looked at her quizzically as she proceeded through the room carrying the usual order from a local bakery in a paper bag, “A hard night at the office, dear?”

“An absolute bitch!” she said looking down at the mismatch of her clothing, “Thank fuck it’s my last night.”

She deposited the assortment of pastries on the plate I’d put out and flopped down beside me on the couch. “Arterial blood?” I asked nodding at the green trousers.

“Worse” she replied and I groaned in response knowing she was talking about vomit. I leant forward and poured her a cup of strong coffee and added the tiniest amount of milk, “You’re an angel, Paul” she said lifting up the mug to her lips and habitually blowing on the surface before taking a sip.

I smiled, “So did you win?”

“A score draw, one all” she replied in that necessarily calloused way referring to whether her patients lived or died, “having said that the loss was probably a blessing, the prognosis was about as bad as it can get.”

“Cancer?” she nodded in reply and once again blew and sipped her coffee before placing it down; “I’m gonna dash upstairs and get out of this sartorial nightmare and grab a quick shower.”

“No worries” I replied as she stood up and walked through to the stairs my eyes following her noting that the replacement trousers were probably a size too small and hugged her shapely ass tightly. I grinned to myself as I imagined the flesh beneath even though I had seen it oiled and bronzed on holiday previously.

A few minutes later she reappeared in a towelling robe and sat down once again, “Damn that was a long night; thank god it’s the last for a month” she said picking up the Travel Section from the Times and her coffee.

“On your feet all night?” I asked, she nodded in reply and I placed the Guardian on the arm of the couch and shifted away a fraction before lifting her feet up onto my thigh.

“Ohh… I’d love you forever” she smiled as I began to massage her left foot with one hand while still reading the open paper and sipping at my second mug of caffeine.

“You always were very fickle, Han” I replied with a smirk.

The two of us sat quietly side by side as I worked away the stresses from her feet, an occasional murmur of appreciation escaping her lips as my fingers and thumbs massaged away the knots. I placed my empty mug on the table and settled back, my eyes automatically going to her thighs as her robe dropped away. I turned my head away, blushing slightly as I caught a brief glimpse of her crotch, naked I was sure in the after-image of my eye; I studied my newspaper intently although unable to read a sentence.

Even though we had shared Mediterranean holidays I had never seen Hani nude, only topless which in itself was impressive enough and I felt my loins stir adjacent to the heel of her right foot. I glanced back at my friend as I pressed my thumb firmly into the arch of her foot noting that her eyes for the moment were closed. I was biting my bottom lip knowing that all I wanted to do was to look down to see the ‘forbidden fruit’ of my neighbour’s sex.

All at once Hani changed in my perception. She’d always been attractive, even when she struggled to lose wait after her second born I’d still admired her as a good looking woman albeit on an aesthetic level rather than a sexual one. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t my type either; where my wife, Gina, was ‘petite’, being almost a foot shorter than me, Hani was just five inches shy of my 6’3” and substantially heavier on top. They were both brunettes, Hannah a lighter brown with grey eyes that often sparkled with the sarcastic wit that the two of us shared.

Now, though I found my mind wandering to her nipples and wondered how large they got when she was turned-on; were they sensitive and did she like them to be suckled and nibbled on. The article on Global-warming within the Guardian remained a blur as I thought about unfastening the towel-rope that fastened her robe and running my tongue down from between her full breasts across her stomach and into the bush I assumed was atop her slit. “What do you taste like Hani? “ I thought to myself as my cock stirred within my Cargo-shorts and slowly swelled.

I was shaken from my reverie as the newspaper my neighbour had been holding slipped from her fingers and crumpled to the floor. I turned my head back and saw that her chest was slowly rising and falling as she succumbed to the exhaustion of her night’s work. The ‘devil’ on my shoulder nudged my mind and for a moment my hand drifted over her knee towards the hem of the robe and the simple task of revealing her pussy to me.

“You fucking pervert” I whispered to myself and froze as Hannah mumbled something inaudible in reply. It wasn’t the first time she had fallen asleep on a morning after a night shift but the ‘friend-zone’ as my teenage sons would have called it had never put the thought of having a sneaky peek into my mind before. I carefully lifted her feet, sighing quietly as her heel glanced across the uncomfortable twisted swelling within my shorts and slipped from the couch.

Placing her feet on the cushion where I had been sitting I stood up slightly shakily and reached down and pulled her robe up covering her thighs. Idiot I heard that devil whisper as I quietly gathered up the remains of my breakfast/Hani’s supper and tidied them away. When all was done I looked back at the sleeping form of my friend and gave in to the darker side of my character reaching into my shorts and straightening my erection within. For a moment which seemed to last for quite a while I considered pulling it out and masturbating there and then.

My eyes never left my friend as I slipped out the back door and locked it behind me before returning to my own house. I’d like to say that was the end of it that day but I went upstairs to the family bathroom and opened the window that I knew looked down on the neighbours conservatory and pulled hard on my erection and shot my load over the window sill after just a half-dozen tugs. That night I convinced/coerced Gina to have sex, our usual tryst being on a Thursday or Saturday night and as I shot my seed deep inside her slit my thoughts were on my neighbour and what her pussy would feel like wrapped around my ejaculating cock.


The second Tuesday of June…

Standing at my own stove, my eyes glancing to the clock above, as I cook up a completely unhealthy breakfast of bacon, eggs, mushrooms and beans (for Hani) as well as a few rounds of toast. All week my thoughts haven’t been very far from my neighbour and in particular the imagined delights of her body. As the sun has headed for its annual zenith the weather has grown hotter and even though it isn’t yet nine in the morning I’ve got the bi-fold doors fully open and I am standing in just a pair of shorts.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” asked Hani from behind me as she walked into my house.

“Only when I laugh… actually yes it does” I answer commenting on the spitting fat from the frying pan occasionally striking my abdomen, “but it’s just too darn hot to be wearing more than the minimum.”

“It’s alright for you boys! You’d think the Pope had been raped if we went topless anywhere but on a beach!” she replied sitting at the chunky wooden table behind me.

“Hey I’ve seen it all before, don’t mind me” I replied transferring the fried food to a large platter beside the hob.

“You wish” she replied, “Mmmm… cholesterol city here we come!”

I turned about and Hani was sitting there wearing a simple cotton summer dress buttoned up the front, the newspaper lying beside the plates I’d already set out. I withdrew my eyes and concentrated on the simple (but oddly needing extra concentration) task of transporting the food to the table. Once done I sat down opposite her and poured our regulation coffees before tucking into the fried breakfast.

“Doesn’t matter how hot it is, a fried breakfast is always welcome” Hani commented as I looked up at her with a mouthful of bacon and egg. This time my eyes flicked down and I noted the top of her cleavage where the top three buttons of her dress were undone as well as the white bra through the thin material and that the same fabric left nothing to the imagination with the bright sunshine streaming through the wide open doors. I munched happily and I wondered exactly how detailed the image would be if she was actually in direct sunlight.

“Can’t think of a single time when it isn’t welcome” I replied after swallowing.

“Hangover?” she asked arching an eyebrow.

“Only once I think… yeah, I’m sure, only once has a hangover been that bad that I haven’t been able to manage a fry-up… of course that’d be other people cooking it for me!” She looked up and a smile spread across her face, “What?” I asked reaching for my chin to see if I had an undignified smear of egg or sauce there.

She laughed and her eyes focused on my chest and abdomen, “Just looks like you’ve got a dose of the Pox… emanating from down below too!”

I looked down and true enough there were maybe twenty small red spots marring my flesh where the hot fat from the frying pan had struck me, “Lucky I have professional advice handy!” I replied, “What’s your recommendation, Nurse?”

“Careful where you put your dick, first and foremost!” her eyes dropped for a moment as if they could see through the table top and my crotch beneath; “Other than that wear an apron.”

I smiled back and then looked down cutting up a piece of toast on my plate, “That’d work, nothing like a sexy apron to repel disease-ridden members of the opposite sex, is there?” I wondered what it would take to attract the woman opposite and of course my over-active privates of the last week began to respond.

Hani put down her knife and idly traced a finger over the flesh just below her neck and considered her reply. Transferring the toast to my mouth I couldn’t help but watch that painted fingernail lightly scratch tiny circles a few inches above the valley of her cleavage. She watched my fascination and the smile remained on her lips as she spoke, “I don’t know… there were a few of those black and white portraits back in the eighties of hunky twenty-something men cooking… I seem to remember they looked quite attractive!”

I raised my eyes to hers, “You mean where they were only wearing an apron?” I suggested and gained a faux-innocent expression in response.

Our conversation changed to less provocative subjects and once we finished our breakfasts and cleared away the detritus of our meal I picked up our mugs and the coffee pot and followed Hani into the garden. I drew in a deep breath as she stepped into the sunlight and my suspicion about the transparency of her dress was confirmed. The mugs clinked in my hand as my grip tightened and my eyes absorbed all the detail of Hani’s body that was on display.

Even though my point of few lasted just a few steps and a lesser number of seconds the gap at the top of Hani’s thighs was imprinted into my mind. Once again my cock stirred within my shorts; the glans slippery with a hint of pre-cum as I drew my gaze away as the object of my lust turned and sat on one of the loungers placed beneath the large parasol placing the newspapers down on the table between them. The mugs and coffee joined them and I stood there looking down at the steaming liquid. “What?” Hani asked looking up at my expression.

I looked up at the sky, almost totally blue with a few small lazy clouds drifting across it, “Do you fancy something cooler?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking white wine… too early?” I asked.

She chewed on her bottom lip, “It’s not even ten o’clock…”

“You’re off today and I got nothing that won’t wait till tomorrow… I know Pimm’s, it hardly qualifies as alcohol!” I suggested.

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, it’s more fruit salad than alcohol!”

The two of us gathered the coffee and mugs and like a pair of truant school kids began gathering the ingredients necessary for the summer cocktail. Hannah popped back to her house and grabbed some strawberries and blueberries while I sliced up some apples and dumped them into the large jug that held the gin-based mixer and lemonade. I glanced at my friend when she returned and was almost sure another button had been undone on her summer dress revealing more cleavage and a couple at the opposite end exposing more of her thighs.

We settled back on the loungers, the newspapers ignored and sipped the alcoholic beverage with a conspiratorial glee. We chatted for a while as the temperature rose and the level of the Pimm’s dropped. “Nuts to this” Hani suddenly exclaimed and stood up pulling her lounger out from under the shade of the parasol. She pulled a bottle of sun tan lotion from the pocket of her dress and placed it on the table. “I hope you don’t mind” she stated as she started unbuttoning her dress.

I shook my head as I watched her reveal her body fairly sure that my dark sunglasses didn’t betray my eyes devouring the flesh being revealed, “Feel free… mi casa su casa!” She stepped out of the dress dropping over the end of the lounger and picked up the lotion applying it liberally to her skin. Of course I had seen her body before on holiday in a bikini and even topless but the matching white lacy bra and panties even though they covered more flesh had me drooling and the response in my crotch was completely autonomous. She seemed oblivious to my fascination as she bent at the hips and lathered lotion up and down her legs.

Once she was happy she looked at me and asked “Be a dear and do my back.” I was equally in the dark looking at Hani’s sunglasses and wondered if her focus was on the bulge in my shorts and if it was as obvious as I felt it was.

“Sure” I took the proffered bottle as she lay face down on the lounger and allowed my eyes to travel up and down her form, lingering on the curves of her glorious ass. As I added the lotion to my hands she reached behind her and unclasped her bra with two fingers before slipping it off. A soft moan escaped from her mouth as I began to massage the oil into her shoulders working it thoroughly into the already tanned flesh and down her back.

“Mmmm… bliss” she muttered. I could feel the tremble in my hands as they worked down her back, knowing that to take too long would be blatantly obvious as well as the desire to simply reach into my shorts and grasp my now rock hard cock. Reluctantly I pulled my hands away as my fingertips skirted the top edge of her panties, my eyes riveted to the tops of her thighs and the slight staining about the hems where she had already applied the sun screen. As I rose up I noted no apparent tan line on show and took a few seconds to examine her buttocks through the lacy material unable to ascertain any at all.

Drawing away I lifted her glass down to the decking beside her lounger so it would be easy to reach and topped it up from the jug as she turned her head towards me. This time I was able to see her grey eyes above the shades and was left in no doubt that they lingered on my crotch, “You are an absolute gem, Paul.”

“Your wish is my command, Ma’am” I answered and sat back down on my lounger in the shade of the parasol.

I felt Hani’s eyes studying me, “Damn your genetic make-up, Paul” she admonished me, “Some of us have to work damn hard on our tans and you seem to be always in the shade and yet look at you!”

She was right, a half hour in reasonable sunlight and my skin responded and only ever had burned once on a Caribbean holiday; I lay back picking up my own drink, “You’ve already got quite a lot of colour and I can’t say I’ve seen you out soaking up the rays.”

I watched her smile, “Oh I have been” I saw her tongue slide between her lips before she continued, “Down at the end of our garden, not quite as exposed to the alley as the back of our house and I’m quite sure the parents doing their school-runs who use it as a short cut don’t want to see quite so much of me!”

I smiled back, “Don’t put yourself down Hani, let me do that” I quipped, “And take it from me there are plenty of fathers who wouldn’t mind in the slightest except for their kids pulling on their hands and asking why they’re going to be late for school!”

“All the same, I won’t be responsible for the collapse of education locally, I’ll stick to the suntrap and avoid unwanted prying eyes” she replied taking a further sip of her drink and then folding her arms beneath her head and wriggling slightly on the lounge seemingly to get comfortable.

Prying eyes I thought, unwanted prying eyes! Adam and Hani’s suntrap was indeed invisible to the alley that ran beside their garden and also screened from accidental sight from my own. I lay back and looked past my friend down to my shed and thought about the four foot of dumping ground screened from my view behind it sited against the boundary to the fields of crops beyond. It hadn’t interested me before and much like a dusty part of an attic fell within the out of sight, out of mind category.

Now it was a passage way, once past the general detritus of garden and household items, that when stored might appear useful at a later date but never actually are, was a vantage point. There were some concrete blocks that might actually prove worthy as keeping as I knew looking over the fence and through a single bush would give me a perfect view of the suntrap. I almost laughed as imagined I was a hormone riddled adolescent once again desperate for a glimpse of female flesh. Still no matter how strong my adult morals were at some point I would be standing there.

The two of us lazed the day away, the jug of Pimm’s emptied and by mutual agreement just topped up with ice and lemonade. Conversation was infrequent and sporadic as opposed to the state of my manhood which remained swollen the entire time and seemed to only soften fractionally for short lengths of time between full-blown rock hard erections. Hani had dozed for a time and I had taken myself to the toilet where I refused to jerk myself off but had that male issue of not being able to urinate till my length softened a little. Even then I was grinning to myself as I had to keep a firm grip on my aim for fear of simply covering the cistern rather than filling the bowl.

On my return I had stood for a few moments at my neighbour’s feet spread as wide as the lounger would allow and the gusset of her lacy underwear on view between her thighs. I squeezed my cock through my shorts, an extremely large patch of pre-cum already soaking my boxers beneath as I fought with my demons to resist simply crawling between her legs and placing my lips on the material, not caring if it was simply sweat that added an extra translucence or something far more desirable.

Hani stirred and I almost remained where I was as she rolled her hips and her mound shifted beneath the sheer material. I shook my head and lay back down on the lounger as she raised herself on her arms, “I think I nodded off there for a minute or two” she said as she rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck causing tiny creaks to be audible even from where I was sitting. She looked about for a second and picked up the suntan lotion before turning onto her back.

I stared up at the underneath of the parasol, her almost naked form in my peripheral vision and trying to drag my eyes towards it like a fisherman’s hook. “Yeah… you were away in the land of ‘nod’ for quite a while” I said, “How does Adam put up with your snoring anyhow?”

“Fuck you!” retorted Hani and began to rub oil into her chest. My cock throbbed within my shorts as she seemed to take far too much time on her breasts topped with shiny hard and long nipples. In my mind I was straddling her hips and pulling on the nearest one with my teeth as her fingernails scratched at my scalp and deep moans escaped from her luscious mouth.

I closed my eyes and wondered if it was possible for me to ejaculate without any physical contact with my raging hard-on. Behind my eyelids scenario after scenario played out and eruption after eruption of my seed filled and covered my next door neighbour.

“Not the only sleep-head it seems” stated Hani from beside me raising me from my reverie. I shook my head and wondered how long I had drifted for and turned towards her opening my eyes. Automatically I licked my lips as my eyes focused on her crotch. She was standing right beside me, bending forwards and picking up her dress. I pulled my eyes upwards away from the lacy material and the hint of labia behind; my eyes tracked across her oiled stomach and her heavy breasts to her face adorned with a mischievous smile.

“I guess it was infectious…” I watched as she pulled on the dress and began buttoning it up, “What time is it?”

She smiled down at me and even though her eyes were still hidden behind her shades the movement of her head swept down my body and back up before answering, “Gone two-thirty, alas stuff to do before the rabble return…”

“Yeah, I guess the same here” I replied and wondered/hoped that Hani meant the same thing as me. I pulled my own sunglasses from my face, blinking a couple of times and studied her as more and more of her oiled flesh disappeared. I grinned and reached down to the floor and picked up her bra, “Don’t forget this!”

“Ohh… yeah that could’ve been embarrassing” she took it from me and stuffed it into her pocket and finished buttoning, her breasts eventually vanishing from view and yet her dark areolae still visible through the white cotton, “What would Gina have thought!”

“Well does she know what size you take? On a Tuesday… her next call might have been Adam and then we would both have had some explaining to do!” I replied.

Her eyebrows arched above her sunglasses, “True… and one hates to be accused of a crime one didn’t commit! Toodles, Paul.”

“Later, Han” I answered and watched her turn and walk away, my eyes dropping to her ass and wanting to simply run after her and fuck her there and then. She slipped through the fence with a wave and disappeared into her house. I looked at the glasses and jug and ignored them simply heading inside and straight to the overlooking bathroom where I stripped off and opened the window. Hani wasn’t to be seen in her conservatory and my mind imagined her in the shower with her fingers buried in her sex; three pumps of my cock and my seed erupted violently from the end of my jerking cock.


…to be continued…

~ by ftfagos on July 31, 2015.

One Response to “Tuesday Morning … Part 1”

  1. […] I guess if you missed the first part you want to go here!…. […]

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