Chapter 3: I Spy

James was wakened by a knock on the door, rousing him from a brief, troubled sleep, tossing and turning.

"Mr. Carmody, ... Good morning! 6:30"

"Yes, thank you! Thank you, Valerie."

He lay there thinking of his, what should he call it? Spying seemed too harsh. Yet what else could one call it. It still bothered him that she had been looking into his eyes in the dark as she assertively rode her husband's cock in the middle of the night. She had ridden up and down his hardness, while he lay drunk and useless, not helping or participating much. Still, she had ridden up and down until at last reaching her climax. He remembered exactly what she had said, how she said it, how her moans had sounded.

James loved the sound of her soft intense sigh... "ohhhhhhh ... ohhhhhhhh. Ooooohhhhhhh. Yyyyyyessss! It had been soft but firm, full of pleasure, soul, and meaning; Almost enough to include James in its universal release.

"Will we be embarrassed looking into each other's eyes this morning?" he wondered. He shook his head, "Don't be ridiculous, she isn't even aware of how our paths have crossed."

The rich smell of bacon frying greeted him as he came down the stairs.

"Good morning!" he smiled at her across the large kitchen. Picking up a cup from the table, James crossed toward her, trying hard not to show any discomfort at her gaze.

'Good morning," she smiled.

Her eyes held his a moment too long, examining him carefully. Perhaps she had been looking at him in the dark. He couldn't take his eyes away from her breasts, round and full under a crisp floral blouse. The pleasure his host had had, ... they both had had, so noisily during the night, was burned into his mind and the details sprang back to his mind easily.

"Not sure 'His Lordship' is feeling too lord-like this morning!" she said rolling her eyes skyward.

James enjoyed her smile as well as her ready, somewhat sharp wit.

"Yes, I saw him in the hall, he looks like he has been rode hard and put away wet!"

James' last word was clipped off as he realized what double meaning it might raise in her mind. He probed lamely and unsuccessfully for a subject to take the conversation in another direction. She smiled in his direction that warm toothy smile.

"Very apt!" she said, leaving it open to trouble his mind.

Gerald arrived, looking sad eyed and tired.

"James says in America they would say you had been 'rode hard and put away wet!' What do you think dear? I said that was about right!"

"Which of us is she mocking?" James wondered, having trouble keeping his thoughts together.

"I feel like something was done to me." He leered at James, "you can't trust birds, can you, get you drunk and think they can have their way with you. Do anything they bloody want! It's a crime, that's what it is!"

Well, he was awake and full of the devil that was clear. James wondered again: 'Who is being mocked here?' Not sure that it was not he on both counts. He just couldn't be sure.

He went to his room to pick up his coat, briefcase and other things. James found himself in a very unsettled, tense frame of mind. On the other hand, he had thoroughly enjoyed his participation, or at least his intrusion on their sex life. Thoroughly! It had already sprung back into his mind several times. Valerie's breasts hanging away from her body into the slings of her bra cups as she stood before him in the mirror; the almost tangible feel of her riding up and down on Gerald's cock there in the intense darkness; it was breathtaking, except for the uneasy sense that he may have been caught spying.

"Well, if I was, she seems to have enjoyed my spying," he decided, at last.

Returning downstairs, he found plans had changed.

"Hope you don't mind, James, I need to go a different direction this morning, so Valerie will take you to the office on her way to her jumble-sale job."

"Oh, sure, sure, no problem." He smiled as she bounced down the stairs pulling on her gloves.

"Ready?" she smiled up at James.

James opened the car door for her and waited as she sat into the car and swung her legs into her car. He noticed that she rolled her eyes up to catch him staring at her legs as she swung in. Did she open them just a little wider than necessary? Did she pause just an instant with one in the car and the other still on the ground? Had she flashed her panties intentionally? He wasn't sure. He closed the door firmly. She was still smiling. It occurred to him that he had to get over worrying about what she was thinking and just take things as they come. Still, it wasn't as easy as he normally found it to be. Her thighs looked invitingly creamy in her pantyhose, with her skirt fluffed up to about mid-thigh. James decided to relax and enjoy it, ... whatever the hell was going on.

"We're off!" he intoned, trying to sound his usual bouncy self.

"Right you are. How did you sleep, Mr. Carmody?"

There it was again. His tension level soared.

"James, ... Please, you make me feel old!"

"Oh, sorry, James," she gazed over at him, that angelic smile on her face.

"How did you sleep, then, James."

He decided to give as good as he got.

"Well, fine, once I got to sleep, that is! And you?"

"A leading question, sir," she bit her lip, suppressing her smile for the moment.

Somehow, he thought that she had been probing for something, and had gotten it out of him, or so she thought. James was confused; he wasn't sure whether he had answered her or not. He stared as she spread her legs wider, touching the clutch and downshifting the little stick shift.

They arrived and she turned toward him to wish him a good day, with some little joke. Without meaning to do it, he touched her nyloned thigh as he laughed at her joke. An electric charge, literally leapt between them.

"Oh, I am sorry," he muttered. The static electric charge was an accident, but after exchanging a long glance, they both burst into laughter at the same time. He really hadn't meant to touch her thigh, had he? He wasn't sure anymore.

She had him completely confused.

She turned even more toward him, her knee elevated slightly, and bent over to look at him through the opposite side window. Valerie was giving him a good look up her skirt along the taut nylon of her thigh. He thought he caught a glimpse of her panties too.

She roared away, leaving a bewildered American standing on the wrong side of the street, thoroughly confused and quite nervous. It was quite different from his usual cocky certainty, but James calmed himself by blaming it on jet lag.

That evening...

Gerald and James arrived home to find the aroma of dinner strong in the air.

"Wow, this is a bit of all right!" Gerald said, beginning a string of jokes about not getting anything to eat when the American went home again. Valerie didn't seem to see the humor of it.

After dinner, they were invited to the local pub for a drink with friends. James tried to beg off, but they insisted that he was the guest of honor as far as their friends were concerned. It made a nice evening. Gerald spent a lot of time playing darts and chatting with his mates, leaving James alone with the two girls. James found himself concentrating on Valerie. They found much in common to talk about, nothing terribly deep, just movies and books they had both enjoyed and the funny coincidences of life and so forth.