I have a large garden which is rather overgrown these days. Well, to be honest most of it is completely wild and more of a wood than a garden. When we moved in, over twenty years ago, I did a lot of planting of trees and shrubs, and now everything has grown up and seeded more plants which have also grown up and out, and so most of it is quite a jungle.

It’s what I like and with two acres there’s still space for a couple of lawns, one beyond the other, which I mow and sunbathe on. Now I’m sixty my energy levels are dropping a bit and so a verdant, low-maintenance garden is just what I want. I’ve always loved nature anyway so I’m quite happy to let it take over and do its thing. I’m not one of those who has to manage every blade of grass.

I scatter corn for the birds and animals and there’s a wildlife pond, so I see a lot of wildlife and that’s what the garden is about, mainly. Plus it’s very private and I take advantage of that to sunbathe nude sometimes, which gives me a pleasant sense of freedom.

It has been ‘we’ up until a few weeks ago, but incredibly my wife of 34 years and I fell out over something really stupid, couldn’t find the compromises we used to, and she’s left me. Eventually I might have to sell the house, I don’t know, but for the time being she’s taken a flat and I’m on my own in the house. I do still love her, and I’ve said so, so we have to see.

It’s true what she said, that our interests are rather different these days, but I think we still have things in common too. Maybe the ingredients are still there for her, under the surface, so I haven’t given up. You just never know with relationships do you?

Anyway, so I have been a bit lonely recently, I have to admit, and I can only put that forward as my excuse for what’s happened in the business with my shed.

It’s a good-sized wooden garden shed, about forty yards from the house, but it’s invisible now because some years ago I started using the garage for the mower and gardening stuff instead, as it’s so much handier, and the laurel screen grew up and up round the shed, with the rest of the jungle, and I just left the shed to its own devices while it slowly disappeared from view.

Then a few weeks ago I was going through that corner of the wood, for once intervening in nature by chopping down some ash saplings that really take over here if you let them, when I saw a trail of trodden-down soil and undergrowth.

Going one way it led to the shed. I followed the trail the other way, and found it led to the hedge between me and the field behind, where there was now a hole at the bottom, about fifteen inches or so across and high, and signs of recent use. We have fox and badger trails but it was too big for them, and an animal wouldn’t make a path to the shed door...

I went and looked in the shed, perplexed. I hadn’t left much in there I didn’t think, so I was surprised to find several large scatter cushions on the floor, and a travel rug type blanket. Various old plant pots, obscure tools and the old wheelbarrow with the punctured tyre were neatly tidied into a corner

The whole interior was clean, with not much dust and no cobwebs. The little window was wiped clear, presumably with the cloth that had been neatly stored on the shelf with a little dustpan and brush.

Somebody was using the shed.

I thought of blocking the hole in the hedge and putting a lock on the door, but some instinct stopped me. I had an idea it would be children, and if they weren’t doing any damage ... I remembered from my own childhood how precious a private, secret place could be. My wife and I hadn’t wanted children, and now I suppose there’s an extra bit of unfulfilled caring instinct in me.

But still, I needed to know who it was and when they were coming; I didn’t want them to be using it for drugs or glue sniffing or anything like that, and I didn’t want them catching me in the nude either! Although it was September now and opportunities for sunbathing were becoming fewer.

So after some thought I took the wireless camera that I normally use to keep an eye on the drive from my office – I work from home - and hid it in the shed in the apex of the roof, at the back. Luckily the shed has power. In the gloom of the shed, against the dark wood, it was pretty hard to spot. In my office I connected the receiver to my computer so I could record, and set it running.

For two days nothing happened; it was an anticlimax. The picture sat unchanging in the corner of my monitor and I started to think I’d overreacted; they’d stopped coming or only came once in a blue moon.

But on the third day, a Wednesday, at just before four in the afternoon, there was a burst of light in the image – the door had opened! The camera struggled with the backlighting from the door, so at first all I could see was that two girls came in, or strictly speaking two smallish, slender, free-moving people around five feet tall with long hair.

When they closed the door the camera adjusted and I could see who they were: Naomi Fielding, who is the daughter of a farmer in the village, and Jemma Duggan, whose parents live at the other end of the village and do something in business I’m not sure what.

I recognised Jemma instantly because, well, you would! I’ve seen her from time to time as she’s grown up, and she waves and smiles if I see her on her bike or pony going through the village. She’s radiantly pretty, about five foot two, and she’s great friends with Naomi. I see a fair bit of the Fieldings, so I’d seen Naomi grow up too - a sweet natured-girl who is also very pretty, with blue-grey eyes and shoulder-length light brown hair. She must be about five foot one.

Jemma has green eyes that I have always had to make an effort not to stare into, even when she was quite small, because they’re quite beautiful and she looks at you very directly and holds your gaze. She has long very dark hair that is almost black. She’s a good-natured person too, but not quite as gentle as Naomi and more assertive.

They are both attractive anyway. Budding, might be the word. With breasts and shape so you can see that they’re post-pubescent, but they’re still the sort of girls you look at and think how lovely they’re going to be.

Anyway, so, they came into the shed and closed the door. Then to my complete astonishment they started taking off their clothes!

It was obviously a regular thing because they were quite casual about it: pullovers, trainers, jeans, T-shirts and without pause bras and panties! I gaped and hastily enlarged the picture to full-screen. The camera isn’t great in low light and is quite low resolution so the picture wasn’t very clear, but I could see enough to find it completely gripping.

I had no audio so I couldn’t hear a thing, but they were saying a couple of words to each other as they stripped, then they came together and embraced! It was incredible. I’d had a glimpse of moderate little bushes and pert little breasts, then it was the two lithe feminine bodies pressed together, kissing and stroking each other’s backs and asses. Standing in the middle of my shed!

I ought to have stopped watching, I knew. Stopped the recording, closed the video window and I suppose left a note for them or locked the shed for next time, or just minded my own business. It was weak, voyeur and quite perverted to keep watching their very, very private tryst. They’d come to my shed in order NOT to be spied on of course ... but they looked so lovely.

Perhaps if my wife had been around I’d have done the right thing, but she wasn’t. It was just me, up in my office, and these stunning girls on my monitor.

They were kissing – little kisses all over rather than deeply - and stroking with their hands and rubbing their bodies on each other. They were so affectionate, and the sex was such fun for them. They kissed and giggled and stroked, and gradually their delicate, sensual hands worked their way to each other’s tits and pussies. It was riveting.

Then disaster – they lay down on the cushions, opened out the blanket, and pulled it over themselves!

I swore. Of course, it wasn’t a warm day and the shed was cold.

Anyway it was still sexy watching their shapes squirming around under the blanket, and I could at least see their beautiful faces and hair. Jemma was worked over under the blanket by Naomi, until her face went tense and staring and amazed as the orgasm gripped her. Then they swapped and Jemma’s hands did goodness knew what to Naomi’s pussy, until Naomi clearly climaxed as well, jerking and shuddering and with the same awestruck expression on her lovely face.

For the first time in years I found my cock in my hand. I couldn’t see much but my imagination more than filled in the gaps! I started to masturbate slowly, watching the girls cuddle, talk and giggle for a while, and then start stroking again, and finally manoeuvre into a 69 under the blanket and, after a several scintillating minutes, bring each other to another writhing orgasm.

As did I myself! I have a box of tissues in the office, fortunately.

When they’d recovered they stood up and I ogled their nubile bodies while they got dressed. Their tits are just about a B I’d think, both of them, Naomi’s being conical and Jemma’s more of a rounded shape and very lovely on her chest, both sets well spread at the base so they aren’t going to sag even when they’re older.

The girls have waists and hips, just not that pronounced. They’re completely sexual, although their thighs are slender in the teen way rather than thicker as many go when they’re fully adult, but aesthetically I do find that shape attractive.

They left, looking together and happy, and I envied them. Well ... my mind was a riot of emotions. I was buzzing slightly from having just had a climax; I was glad that my shed had helped the sweet girls to have a nice time; I was guilty about watching them; I was scared they might have seen the camera, or see it next time (I knew in my mind I wasn’t going to do the decent thing) and denounce me to the whole village as a dirty old man; and I was desperate to see more!

I wondered when they’d come back. Clearly they had just come on their way home after school, and they hadn’t come on Monday or Tuesday ... I found I was calculating when it would be safe for me to go back to the shed. Then I admitted to myself that I wanted to do anything I could to improve the show. As I thought more about it – and I couldn’t think of anything else – I realised I needed to introduce some heating, and ideally some better camera coverage and with audio.

I replayed the video, masturbated again to it, and found my guilt diminishing as it was overwhelmed by excitement and determination. I was lonely, bored (my software business almost runs itself these days, people just pay and download it), and the shed and the girls became a project. A sexy, challenging project. Basically I got carried away.

I started scheming about how to introduce improvements without alerting the girls to my filming, or even letting them think the shed was being visited. It was perverted and indefensible I knew, but I couldn’t resist it.

I went onto eBay and bought a better wireless camera with sound and good low-light performance. The next day I went along to a place that sells all kinds of ‘antiques’, old furniture and bric-a-brac out of some ramshackle old farm buildings. There, after some rummaging, I found an old greenhouse heater which was a nice dark brown and had some rust on it, so it would blend in with the shed and look abandoned.

Luckily the camera arrived in the Friday morning post, so by the time school finished I had everything installed. The camera power supply was outside the shed hidden under an old bucket and brambles at the back, so the girls wouldn’t see it if they investigated the source of the mysterious heat inside. The heater was on through a thermostat, behind the neat pile of junk and the wheelbarrow, and I hoped the girls would assume the weather had only just turned cold enough to set it off, and not remember clearly whether it had been there when they tidied the place up.

I set the thermostat to a nice warm temperature and retreated to my office to watch.

Four o’clock came and went; then five; then six. Finally I was feeling too much of an idiot and gave it up for the day.

On Saturday I checked through the recorded video – no girls. I sat and waited, doing other things but keeping an eye on the video picture in the corner of my monitor.

At eleven they came! The door opened and there they were: the two sweet girls I’ve known, albeit distantly, since they were infants; whose parents I know, and whom I would protect and help always. Except that right now I was spying on them and perving them.

As before they took off their clothes straight away. They only came here for one thing, evidently. This time I could see them more clearly and hear them too.

They looked even more gorgeous in the higher quality picture, and their little murmurs and giggles really brought the sexy scene to life. They stood stroking and kissing each other, and this time I could hear their breathing change as their lovely lithe bodies became aroused.

I listened intently, hoping not to hear any suspicions about the temperature.

“That Dean,” said Naomi, “he’s such a jerk.”

“I know,” replied Jemma sympathetically, combing her fingers through Naomi’s hair as they stood snuggled together, “but we fixed him.”

“You fixed him,” Naomi smiled, “I can’t believe what you said!”

“He had it coming,” Jemma sounded quite determined, “asking if he could touch your tits...”

“Only you can touch my tits,” breathed Naomi.

“That’s right,” agreed Jemma, separating for a moment to give one lovely conical breast a fondle with her fingertips.

“Ooooh,” Naomi squirmed and gasped quietly, loving the sensation. Jemma bent and kissed it and sucked her nipple, producing more gasps.

I liked hearing how Jemma was looking after her more unassertive friend. Naomi would be an easy victim for a bully, it seemed to me: she’s a quiet, gentle girl, not terribly sure of herself and quite small. I wondered what Jemma had said to the jerk Dean?

“Shall we lie down?” asked Naomi. I was starting to see that Jemma was somewhat the senior partner in their relationship. Jemma supported Naomi, looked after her, and made the decisions.

To my joy they spread the blanket over the cushions and lay down on top of it, their sexy young bodies fully revealed to the camera.

They intertwined their lissom legs and started rubbing gently on each other.

“Lots of time today,” smiled Naomi. Naomi smiles all the time.

“I can’t believe we’ve been doing this all this time,” Jemma replied at a tangent, “and he just never checks. I keep thinking we’ll turn up and it’ll be used or locked.”

“He’s old,” explained Naomi, “Dad says this place is too big for him now.”

I was a bit put out to hear that David Fielding thought I was too old to look after my own house, until I considered that to a farmer my letting the land go to nature the way I had would be anathema. I certainly didn’t feel old. I could still run couldn’t I?

“Well that’s good for us, anyway,” Jemma wriggled into a better position for grinding, with Naomi more on top of her, and speeded up.

“Nothing could be better than this,” breathed Naomi as her lovely little body started to work up towards its orgasm. They both stopped talking for a minute or two as they committed to gasping, and grinding their lean, lissom bodies together, Jemma’s beautifully muscled thigh wrapped by Naomi’s two, and Naomi’s pert little ass and narrow back changing shape rhythmically and erotically with the effort.

Then they were there, as intimately perfect as you can imagine, sharing ecstasy.

It seemed to me they had both reached the point of orgasm remarkably quickly, though I didn’t really know what would be normal for girls that age. I watched the two girls enjoy their orgasms then settle down again. They weren’t in any hurry to go, evidently. They lay together, naked and relaxed, legs intertwined and with a hand on each other.

“We have to try a boy though, don’t we?” Jemma picked up the conversation again.

“As long as he didn’t go talking about it...” Naomi was characteristically nervous.

“Yeah,” Jemma considered the point, stroking Naomi’s tits, “they’re all after these tits aren’t they? And your gorgeous pussy. If any of them made it with you they’d be all boasting about it I bet.”

“And you Jem, even more! You’re so hot, it would get round in a flash.”

“Yeah ... I had that knobend Mick Harris talking about sexting last week. As IF! He’d send everything to his moron gang in a second. I told him to stick his little cock in a blender THEN send me the pic.”

Naomi giggled. I could hear she admired her friend’s robust way of dealing with the boys, though to me it seemed quite fierce. I could just imagine the kids in a group laughing at the unfortunate Mick Harris.

I carried on watching and listening to their girlie conversation as they aroused each other, gave each other another orgasm, then relaxed and talked some more, before enjoying another pair of climaxes with some delicious-looking oral and a 69.

It went on for two hours altogether, during which time I had two orgasms as well; then they got dressed and left. It had been an amazing thing to see, and I thought about it constantly for the next days.

I also thought about being too old, and my fitness. I was really scared of spending the rest of my life on my own, if my wife didn’t come back. It could be thirty years living on my own and lonely.

I still hoped she might come back, but in case she wasn’t going to the girls’ words triggered me into going and buying a multigym, which I put it in the dining room since I wasn’t using it for dining of course. If I needed to, I wanted to be able to attract another partner, or at least not turn her off at bedtime!

Not that I was overweight or even flabby, but some really defined muscles could only help. I was bored anyway, and I suppose a bit paranoid. I’d already been going running and looking up about diet, eating less salt, sugar and fat, and more vegetables and fruit to give my skin a healthy glow.

Now I set about getting in shape. I was surprised how quickly I started to develop extra muscle. My shape did indeed start to change, with my shoulders, pecs and ass, and I carried myself better. I was encouraged and decided to make sure I kept building it up.

The girls didn’t come back until the following Wednesday, when they appeared after school as before and had a relatively intense half an hour that involved three orgasms each. It looked like Wednesdays and Saturdays was the routine, and sure enough on the next Saturday they came and had another two hours of sweet intimacy, all soaked up by my eager eyes and ears.

My worries about the shed being unnaturally warm and too obviously heated faded as we had an Indian Summer, with temperatures more like August and wall-to-wall sunshine. It had me out on the far lawn working on my youthful-looking – I hoped - all-over tan.

I was blond once upon a time (and my pubes still are for some reason) so my skin tans to a golden colour. The hair on my head is mostly grey, though at least it is still all there. I’d debated dying it, but decided it would just look fake, and any partner would be in the same boat anyway, even if it’s more acceptable for women to dye their hair as the dreaded grey takes hold.

So on the Tuesday afternoon I was lying naked on the far lawn, which can only be accessed through a gap in the overgrown shrubbery via the main lawn that adjoins the house. I had my tablet and sun oil – I use plenty of oil to stop my skin drying out - and was happily reading a story. The story was a sex story, and I was gently stroking my well-oiled cock because, through no coincidence at all, the story was about girls having sex in a shed.

I could not stop thinking about sheds, girls, sex, and Jemma and Naomi. I kept replaying the videos. Through sheer repetition, and reading many stories about older men having sex with teens, my guilt had pretty much disappeared.

I was well on the way to a very pleasant orgasm, when I heard a rustle in the undergrowth! Somehow it didn’t sound like an animal, and I froze. There was another rustle, a faint gasp, and a faint whisper. A girlie gasp and a girlie whisper.

My goodness! I realised it pretty much had to be the girls. The shed was just off the edge of this lawn, and evidently they’d come on a Tuesday, early, and caught me red-handed! Or cock-handed I should say. It was hard in my hand, its thick seven-and-half inches glistening and throbbing.

My mind raced with desperate ideas as I tried to decide what to do. Suppose they told other kids? They couldn’t tell any adults, directly, without giving away their lesbian sessions in the shed ... as long as they knew I knew about them ... because if they thought the shed was unknown to me they might think they were safe to gossip...

Even though they couldn’t say they’d seen me without admitting they’d been sneaking about in my garden, they could start a rumour by suggesting it to other kids, or...

Well while I worked it out I had to stop them just running away, at the very least...

I rolled from my side onto my back, and for a few seconds I aimed to keep the girls rooted to the spot by slowly stroking my cock, holding it vertical.

I kept thinking feverishly. Well ... the best I could think was to say I knew about them and do a deal. It should keep them quiet, at least. If word of my nude masturbating in my garden got round the village there’d be all kinds of sniggering at drinks parties with little references to my tan, and my trees would be full of peeping kids.

“Jemma, Naomi, come out and stop hiding in the trees,” I said, loudly enough to carry and hoping to sound authoritative, “I know what you’ve been up to in the shed, but it’s okay. I don’t mind. Just come out and talk to me. Promise me you won’t tell about me, and I won’t tell about you. Come on, I know you’re there ... I won’t touch you, you know that, come out.”

There was a pause, some more whispering, then some loud rustling and the girls emerged onto the lawn near the shed about ten yards away from me. From some obscure instinct I kept stroking my cock, slowly, keeping it hard and fascinating for them. Both the girls were looking at it, fully dressed in their jeans and T-shirts, and looking guilty and embarrassed – Naomi more so than Jemma.

“We’re sorry Mr Lawrence,” said Jemma.

“Alright,” I used a soothing voice, “we all need some privacy don’t we? So promise me: not a word or a hint about me, and I’ll do the same for you. I don’t mind you using the shed, you can carry on, I don’t use it anyway. I won’t tell anyone what you do together, it’s not wrong so I don’t mind, but I know you wouldn’t want everyone else to know. So it’s alright. Don’t bring anyone else though.”

The girls nodded, dragged their eyes away from my cock and fled back into the trees. I heard them making their escape through the hedge.

For some reason I never thought clearly what would happen once they had time to think. I suppose I was too besotted, or I just underestimated young Jemma.

The next day I was watching for their regular Wednesday session, and sure enough they came. But I could only watch, aghast, as Jemma started looking for the camera, with her phone’s flashlight. She found it pretty quickly. The picture on my monitor went white, then she turned the flashlight off and I saw both of them looking up at it.

“I bet you can hear,” said Jemma, her beautiful face looking furious, “you pervert! Filming us in secret! You should freaking well go to prison!” She turned and stormed out, pulling Naomi with her, and shortly afterwards the bell went on my front door.

I went down and opened it, guilty and shamefaced. There they were, bold as brass – well one of them anyway. Naomi was scared, but Jemma was on the warpath.

“You pervert!” she spat at me. “We thought you were nice! But you were filming us in secret, watching and perving over us! That’s terrible! And what have you done with it? Have you posted the videos on some pervy peeping tom wankers’ website or something?”

I quailed before the onslaught.

“Come in,” I stepped back and waved them in, “no I haven’t posted the videos and I never will. I never would. I’m sorry...”

“And as for you and your nude wanking,” Jemma interrupted as they came into the hall, “that’s nothing compared to secretly filming two girls who’re experimenting a bit and violating their privacy! I bet there are all sorts of laws about it! Spying on us, perving our naked bodies. Underage. You could be sent to prison! And you freaking well ought to be! What would everyone say, if they knew? Me and Naomi doing a bit of experimenting would be NOTHING compared with that!”

I hadn’t realised how ferocious Jemma could be. “Look, I’m sorry,” I spluttered, “I didn’t mean to spoil anything, I put the camera in to find out who was coming, because I didn’t know, and then when you came and took your clothes off and kissed and...”

“It was too much for your perverted brain I suppose!” Jemma resumed fire, “so you got your ginormous cock out and put oil on it I suppose and got off, watching us, like some, I don’t know, pervy webcam show! As though we were cam girls or something!”

“No no,” I got in quickly while she took a breath, “it was just so beautiful...”

“Oh really,” she spat, “so did you write a poem about it or did you have a wank?”

“Well...”

“And what were you wanking about on the lawn? Do you have it on your tablet, all the video? Or do you just wank like ALL the time?”

“No, no, it was just a story...”

“Oh yeah, and what was the story about?”

It’s hard to explain how difficult it was for me. Yes Jemma is only five foot two and about fourteen, and I am five foot eight and sixty, but I felt so much in the wrong. Normally I’d have been the wise adult advising and guiding the children, but now I’d put myself completely in the wrong and she knew it. We both knew she had every right to lambast me for what I’d done. And she is not a meek girl, to say the least.

“It was a story about ... girls in a shed,” I was too crushed to think of a lie.

“Ha! Fancy that!” she pointed an accusing little finger at me. “Girls in a shed - doing stuff I suppose and you were thinking about us? Your free underage webcam girls that you’ve been violating with your pervy camera!”

“Well, yes I suppose ... look it was just me being weak,” I grovelled, “I saw you and you were so sexy. I shouldn’t have kept watching but I did. I am very, very sorry. I’ll delete all the videos and you can have the shed and I’ll take the camera out. It was wrong and I am very sorry, really. Keep the shed, I’ll stay away.”

Jemma considered it for a second and I realised the shed must be quite important to them; well when I thought about it, where else could they go?

“So we can come whenever we want? And you won’t watch or anything?”

I nodded and shook my head respectively.

“Well let’s go and see,” she said, and I followed her and Naomi out and over to the shed. They stood and watched while I took out the camera and undid the wiring.

“Is that a heater?” Jemma asked as I worked at the power socket. I had to admit it was.

“I thought it was warm in here suddenly ... that’s so we wouldn’t use the blanket and you could totally perv us! Honestly you are SUCH a pervert!”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but you can keep the heater now so it’s warm in the winter, or at least until it gets really cold. The shed isn’t that well insulated, of course...”

“You could make it insulated though, couldn’t you?”

“Yes I could insulate it, line it.”

“And it could have lights, and be painted and have some better cushions in... ? And beanbags?”

“Yes it could,” I was ready to agree to anything.

“And it could be on your wifi for our phones?”

“Yes.”

“And have a rug?”

“Yes.” God, I was being mugged.

“And some speakers to plug our phones into?”

“Yes alright.”

“Alright we have to talk.” It took me a second or two to realise Jemma was waiting for ME to leave so she and Naomi could talk. I scuttled ignominiously outside and waited. I was hoping desperately that there was a deal to be done that would save my reputation, and even my freedom. Also I suppose in a lonely little corner of my mind I was hoping I could keep seeing them somehow.

After a couple of minutes they came out. “Can we use this lawn too?” Jemma indicated the small super-private lawn next to the shed.

I nodded.

“And we want to perv you, too. That’ll make it equal.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“We’ve seen you already haven’t we? We just want more time to look. We don’t get to see naked men normally and you’re not bad are you? And we want to see an orgasm and spurting. You’ve seen us cumming lots of times already so it’s only fair isn’t it?”

For a second I could only gawp at the little vixen. My mouth might even have been open I’m not sure.