The Chair


The Chair


After months of searching and going to auctions, Sue finally found a house for her and her son to call home. It was a quaint little cottage-style house with a verandah across the front and a patio out the back. The house itself wasn’t too bad. Repair work here and there and a little paint there and here would make it look better. The pool in the backyard needed a good cleaning, and quite a few of the bushes and trees needed a trim. It looked like nobody had lived in the house for a while. The main feature for Sue was the feeling of privacy and seclusion. The house was almost in the middle of a five-acre block. Apart from around the house and the driveway, the rest was still untouched natural bushland. Her little slice of what she thought was paradise is on the north side of Brisbane in an area called the Redcliffe Peninsula.

Not one to be discouraged by a challenge, Sue made what she thought was a reasonable offer, considering the work she needed to do. To her surprise, the previous owner’s family accepted.

Day One

Sue had slept in the house on a camp stretcher and sleeping bag so that she would be there when the removalists arrived and she could coordinate the unloading and sorting. Last night she had spoken to her son David on her mobile phone and given him the two-dollar video tour. He was so happy that she had finally found somewhere to live and voiced his concern about the workload. David’s been living with Sue’s parents until he finishes school in a month or so. Then he was going to move in with her and look for work. Until that happened, she had the place to herself.

Sue climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom for a quick shower before breakfast. The removalists were supposed to arrive at six-thirty. She had slept in the nude as she always does, and last night she’d needed to wash her clothes. They were all she had until her stuff arrived in the truck. When she’d finished eating, she went outside to the clothesline to get her clothes and heard a vehicle coming down the drive. There was no time for underwear, so she quickly pulled on her shorts and t-shirt as she hurried through the house. She was still shoving her panties and bra into her back pockets as she pulled open the front door. One of the men was standing there with his arm up to knock.

The first thing that caught the man’s attention was Sue’s nipples. After running through the house, her nipples were making the most alluring pokies he’d seen in a while, especially this close. Politely shifting his gaze to her face, he suggested she stand near the door and tell them which room, and they would do the rest. For almost four hours, including breaks, she had stood there calling out the room and helping where she could. She had no idea that she had been giving the removalists almost a constant show of hard nipples and bare tits every time she bent over. Sue was exhausted. They packed their gear into the truck and said their goodbyes. Sue asked them to lock the front gate on their way out, and they were gone just before lunchtime.

As soon as they drove away, Sue pulled her t-shirt over her head and threw it on the table. She cupped and held her tits in her hands. Her nipples were so sensitive after being dragged back and forth across the material with her every movement. She smiled as she undid the metal buttons on her shorts, letting them fall to the floor, glad to be naked again.

Sue enjoyed being nude. She found the freedom from clothes very relaxing, not to mention less restrictive and a lot cooler. After picking her shorts up, Sue threw them on the table with her t-shirt before walking into the kitchen to make lunch. Sue stopped and blushed when she saw her panties and bra hanging out of her pockets, “Ooops,” she said, then giggled at the thought that the removalists had probably seen them too, and known the whole time that she wasn’t wearing any panties under her jeans shorts, as well as no bra.

After making some lunch, a couple of sandwiches on a plate and a cup of tea, she headed for the front verandah. When she bought the house, an old squatter’s chair was left behind. It looked very comfortable and had little arms on each side to support and rest your legs. She threw a towel over the seat and sat down, lifting her legs onto the little arms. After finishing her sandwiches and tea, she relaxed, slumping into the chair, her bum at the edge of the seat. For an old chair, you’re very comfortable. I wouldn’t have left you behind, she thought to herself.

“Mmmm, very comfortable,” she hummed as she relaxed, sinking deeper into the chair and closing her eyes. The warm sun and the comfort made Sue drowsy. Then all of a sudden, sitting up. “C’mon, I haven’t got time for this,” Sue said and lifted her legs off the little arms and put her feet on the floor. She stretched her arms over her head and behind her, bending her back, then moaned from the release of tension as her body relaxed. As kocaeli escort she went to pick up her plate and cup, the cordless house phone rang.

“Hello, Sue speaking,”

“You’re a beautiful woman Sue, Just like Kaye,” the voice had said, then hung up. Sue put the phone down on the table, looking inquisitively at the phone and thinking to herself, Who’s Kaye?

Sue didn’t think about the mysterious phone call but couldn’t get Kaye off her mind. She decided to phone the real estate agent when she had a break from unpacking. She’ll need to eat, so the first room to sort out had to be the kitchen. Sue organised the drawers and cupboards, filled the pantry and hung the pots and pans on hooks. A place for everything and everything in its place is what her mother used to say. The last pieces to finish off were the kitchen table and chairs. Sue leaned back against the bench, happy with what she had achieved. She reached over to flick the kettle on, then picked up the house phone.

“Hello, this is Sue Jackson. I bought the house out along Deception Bay Road.”

“Hello Sue, Yes, I know the one. The Morrison place.

“Yes, That’s the one.” Sue quickly thought That’s not the name of the people I bought it from, “Can you tell me who owned it before me, please? There’s a piece of furniture left behind that I’d like to return.”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I can’t do that. A couple lived there. He was killed by a drunk driver about six months ago,”

“Oh, I see… I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“That’s OK. You weren’t to know. If I remember rightly, I think the woman’s name was Kaye,”

“Thank you very much. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. Goodbye,” Sue hung up and put the phone on the bench. Well, that answers that question, she thought as she turned towards the kettle that had just started to boil.

Sue made tea and then carried it outside to the verandah. She sat in the squatter’s chair, lifting her legs onto the arms and shifting her bum to the edge, her mind deep in thought as she sipped at the hot tea. Why would the caller compliment me about my beauty and then say just like Kaye? What was she doing that reminded him of Kaye? Did Kaye sit here in the squatters chair like she was? Was Kaye nude like Sue was? Did Kaye know someone was watching her? “Too many questions,” said Sue to herself, “Time to do some more unpacking.” Sue got out of the chair and walked inside. Questions still bounced around in her head. She carried all the empty and flattened cardboard boxes from the kitchen to the verandah, where she stacked them ready to be taken away. Her bedroom was next on the list so she could get a good night’s sleep in her bed, not on a camp stretcher or a sleeping bag.

Day Two

Sue got up bright and early, made a cup of tea and walked out to the verandah, still comfortably naked. After putting her cup on the table, Sue straightened out the towel on the squatter’s chair and sat down, legs on the arms. The warm morning sun felt marvellous on her bare skin, and she stretched out like a cat waking from a nap. Just as she reached for her cup of tea, The cordless phone rang.

“Hello, Sue speaking,”

“You look amazing in the morning sun, Just like Kaye,” said the voice and hung up. Sue put the phone down as questions started to rerun through her mind. She looked around to see if she could see any signs that someone was watching her. She saw nothing and no one.

When Sue reached over to pick up a cushion, she noticed a mark on the verandah floor. An X inside an outlined L, right beside the leg of the chair. Intrigued, she looked around, finding another three, making four in total, forming a rectangle. The only difference in the marks was the way the L faced. Curiosity got the better of her, so she looked around for something that might correspond with them and soon ascertained that the L’s matched the legs of her squatter’s chair.

Sue shifted the chair slightly to suit the marks and asked herself, Why would anyone do that? Maybe Kaye did, so the chair was always in the best spot when she sat in the morning sun. Sue sat back in the chair and looked around. She soon discovered that the chair faced one of the houses across the road. Anyone looking out a particular window had a clear full frontal view of anyone sitting in the chair. Twice Sue had been in the chair, and the phone had rung. Each time, she had been complimented and compared to Kaye. Sue sat there thinking, phone calls, Me, compliments, Kaye, the marks, the chair, the house, the view. She laid back, eyes closed, deep in thought.

Suddenly, the penny dropped. Someone in that house across the road had been watching Kaye as she sat in the chair. Sue could see a clear line of sight from the window to the chair. She laid back in the chair and peeked down along her body between her tits, and there was the window. Sue’s imagination instantly broke free and ran wild. Was Kaye being watched, unaware, accidentally exposing herself kocaeli escort bayan or was she fully aware and playing up to it? Was she clothed, possibly without underwear and purposely flashing her watcher? Was she nude, like herself, and unaware? Was she nude and letting whoever it was, watch every move she made?

In all the turmoil, reality returned. Not for one second had Sue stopped to think where she was and what she was doing or had been doing. She was in the chair, facing the house, and was naked. Jesus, Whoever it is, with my legs on those arms, has a clear view up between my legs to my pussy. I’ve been on display and didn’t know it. Sue realised and calmly lifted her legs off the arms, took a deep breath, stood up, picked up her cup then, as naturally as possible, walked inside. Once inside, out of view, Sue had to stop. She was shaking so much her legs could hardly hold her up. Her nipples were painfully hard. Pussy juice was leaking and daubing over her inner thighs.

Sue cupped her hand over her pussy, trying to calm herself. It didn’t work. The soft touch of her fingers exacerbated the situation dramatically, and Sue sank to the floor as her body succumbed to an orgasm. She knelt there, leaning sideways against the wall, her bum on her heels, her head hanging down, and her eyes closed. One hand was on a knee supporting her. The other still cupped over her pussy, the fingers now slick and glistening from the coating of pussy juice and girl cum. Little aftershocks rattled her body as her orgasm subsided. Her breathing slowly abated.

She took her hand away from her pussy and looked at it, then slid two fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean before doing the same to the others. Sue had tasted herself quite a few times before and liked it.

Christ, I’ve never cum that hard before, thought Sue as she tried to get up. She looked down at the floor and spotted where a few drips had landed below her pussy. What a mess, she said to herself. With a hand on the wall to steady herself, she stood up onto still shaky legs and slowly walked toward the kitchen to get some paper towels. I wonder if that happened to Kaye, Sue asked herself as she ripped the towel off the roll and made her way back to the hallway. After wiping the floor, she returned to the kitchen to dispose of the towel and then went to the bathroom for a shower to clean herself.

The more Sue tried to find distractions to think about, the more her mind returned to the phone calls, the chair and the house. After her shower, she returned to unpacking boxes and putting stuff away. Lunchtime seemed to come around fairly quickly, and so did thoughts of the chair. Holding her sandwiches on a plate and her cup of tea in hand, she stood in the hallway, thinking. I enjoy being nude. It’s my house, and I want to be nude, a watcher or no watcher. If he wants to watch, then watch. So what. He’s already seen all of me anyway. Sue made up her mind and walked off.

The closer Sue walked to the chair, the more nervous she got. She had never intentionally displayed her naked body to anyone before, and knowing that someone was out there made what she was about to do all the more daunting. She took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway. Sue tried to act as nonchalant as possible but couldn’t do anything about her nervously shaking hands or rapidly escalating arousal. Her nipples had hardened, throbbing with each heartbeat. Her clit tingled, signalling its’ need for attention. Her pussy moistened. They were proving to be mortifying distractions.

She put her sandwiches and cup of tea on the table and sat in the chair. Here goes nothing, Sue said, shifting into position and lifting her legs onto the chair’s arms. Sue took another deep breath to help herself calm down, “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” she mumbled as she reached for her sandwiches. Every chance she got, she tried to inconspicuously glance toward the window to see if she could see anything.

For the next hour, while she sat there eating her lunch and drinking her tea, Sue was in turmoil. Her morals wanted her to run inside, but her body, aroused and wanting to be looked at, wouldn’t let her move. Her arousal deepened each minute, her pussy getting wetter each second. Sue glanced down and realised that, with her legs apart, her pussy had opened up like a blossoming rosebud displaying its glistening petals. Thoughts of God, No, Please don’t look, Please don’t see how wet my pussy is, Please, pleaded Sue mentally. She had never experienced anything so intense before, torn between the time-worn dictate of feminine modesty and the overpowering yet intimidating and energising force to be seen and admired.

After finishing her lunch and cup of tea, Sue picked up her plate and cup and walked inside. The first intentional display of her naked body for an unknown voyeur ended. Without hesitation, Sue walked into her bedroom, placed the plate and cup on her dressing izmit escort table, fell backwards onto her bed and masturbated. The fingers of one hand furiously rubbed her clit as her other hand mauled her tits, fingers mercilessly pulling at her nipples. The ferocity of Sue’s orgasm ravaged her body time and time again until it waned and turned to euphoria.

On days Three and Four, the start of her day, breakfast on the verandah sitting in the chair, was becoming a habit-forming routine. The nervousness of being nude and on display had faded, but the lingering questions never left. Was he watching? Would he ring? The expected phone calls hadn’t come.

Day Five

Sue did her usual thing, breakfast on the verandah, sitting in the chair. She had become more relaxed and hadn’t thought about the chair or the window much, if at all. She had finished the unpacking and furniture shifting and was now spending more time in the chair planning the renovation work she’d like to do and the paint colours she’d like to use.

Any thoughts or concerns about the chair, the window or her watcher had faded to a lesser importance, almost forgotten, then the phone rang.

“Do you shave?” the voice asked. Sue instantly recognised the voice. Her nervous system reacted so did her nipples and pussy.

“Yes,” replied Sue before she could stop herself.

“Kaye shaved for me?” stated the voice. Then the call disconnected.

Sue sat there momentarily with her mouth agape, then slowly closed it. A new cluster of questions filled her head. Kaye shaved for me. What the hell does that mean? Did she tell him she shaved her pussy? Kaye’s pussy was bald, and he saw it, or she showed him. Suddenly another thought swamped the others. He had watched Kaye shave her pussy. My God thought Sue, Surely not, she, she didn’t. The more Sue thought about it, the answer became obvious. Kaye had shaved her pussy while sitting on the chair, and he had watched. Sue found it hard to believe, but her pussy didn’t.

Unconsciously she placed her hand on her pussy as if to quieten it, but all her fingers found was tender flesh and pussy juice. Sue moaned as her fingers lightly raked across her sensitive flesh, spreading her juices over her pussy and its scant pubic hair she’d kept trimmed. In her mind, the fingers became the razor. Her legs rolled slightly further apart. Pictures of laying there shaving her pussy in the morning sun played across the inside of her closed eyelids. One errant finger slid up and down her slit bumping her clit. Sue’s orgasm crept closer with each pass of her fingers. Then out of nowhere, she remembered where she was. Her eyes flicked open, looked straight at the house and then stood up, scampering inside before the interruption destroyed the moment.

Once on her bed, her fingers quickly returned to her pussy. Like a movie script at rehearsal, scenes were performed and replayed. Minute changes made. Sue was back in the chair, her legs spread wide apart, hanging over the little arms. The shaving of her pussy was slow and deliberate, emphasising every pass of her fingers as they covered her pussy with her favoured shaving cream. Each sweep of the razor across her sensitive skin highlighted the contact of a personal and private nature. The tingling of her pussy’s recently shaved flesh as the razor exposed it to the fresh air. The smearing of the skin care lotion, her lotion-covered fingers, gliding across the sensitive skin.

Sue’s orgasm smashed into her both in the chair and on the bed. A long resonating wail sounded again and again throughout the house. She rode the waves of pleasure as they ebbed and peaked. She knew then that tomorrow would be her debut. Euphoria flowed through Sue’s body following the dwindling waves of her orgasm. Sue lay on her bed, her legs still spread and her hand lightly caressing her pussy. Her other forearm draped across her eyes, making the black screen darker.

Day Six

Sue’s nights were becoming almost as busy as her days. The content in the montage of her dreams was increasing every day. She had fallen asleep after another aura-inspiring orgasm. Over and over, she had mentally practised her part in the show. Now was her time to walk on stage.

Without the slightest hesitation, Sue walked onto the verandah, placed her cup of tea and bowl of muesli on the table, and then walked back inside. She quickly returned with a razor, her skincare lotion and her father’s shaving brush and cream. Sue had kept them for her son after her father had passed away. When she finished her muesli, Sue took the bowl inside, washed it and put some hot water in it before carrying it back to the verandah table.

Sitting in the chair, Sue moved into position, wet the brush and dolloped some cream. “Oh my,” exclaimed Sue out loud. She had shaved before but never experienced the ultra-soft hairs of the shaving brush. Sue gasped a few times as the brush hairs glided along the edges of her pussy’s lips and dragged delicately over her clit’s little hood. “Mmmm, I might have to keep this,” declared Sue as her arousal roused to the call. Her pussy began trickling pussy juice down across her perineum before she’d covered everything in readiness for the razor.

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