To say that it was warm would be the understatement of the year. According to the meteorologists, it was one of the hottest days on record. You might have thought that no one in Britain had seen the sun for a whole year. Yet, it seemed like half the country had taken the day off work, not wanting to worry about the daily commute on cramped trains to sit in hot, stuffy offices with broken air conditioning. Instead, people had back garden barbecues, picnics in parks, and thousands had flocked to sit on overcrowded beaches for a distant glimpse of the sea. Fortunately for children everywhere, it was the summer holidays, and so they, too, were exempt from stuffy classrooms.

Sharon, however, found it far too hot and always dreaded the summer in case of high temperatures. She used to have a tried and tested regime of keeping cool on sweltering days — spend as much time in the shower, with as few clothes on as possible, and strategically position as many fans as she could muster around the house.

However, there were two minor problems for the last few years — her children. With them around, she could hardly be scantily clad around the house. But this year, now that the boys were old enough, they had joined the local Cub group, and this week was the week of the summer camp, so two days ago, off they went to the New Forest.

With the children away, she had hoped she could have spent some time with her husband, but he had to make a last-minute work trip to America. And so the house felt oddly quiet. Also, unfortunately, they had lent several fans to Mrs Davies next door, a frail ninety-year-old woman who suffered in the heat. But, for the first summer in a long time, she could walk around her house in one of the skimpiest outfits she had — a pair of white lacy panties and an old ripped t-shirt, which she’d frequently soak in cold water.

There were five houses in Sharon’s little cul-de-sac, all detached and circling a reasonably sized roundabout. Secluded from the rest of the village, each had a gorgeously big garden. Sharon and family lived in no. 1, Mrs Davies in no. 2, a lovely young couple with three very young children in no. 3 who’d gone away to Mallorca, no. 4 was currently for sale, and then there was no. 5. A handsome man recently purchased it and moved in only a few days ago after months of renovation work.

Even though the houses were quite far apart, she still had to be careful. So, before she dressed in her hot weather attire, she went around the house drawing curtains where there were curtains and turning out lights in rooms where there were only nets. Once this was all done, she went upstairs to the bathroom to take a cold shower.

It felt welcome, and it only took a few moments for her to feel a lot cooler. A thought flashed through her head — that mysterious new man in no. 5. It was only brief, but she felt a little flushed, her heart beat momentarily faster, her nipples hardened, and she sensed a tingle in her pussy. Lowering the temperature made those feelings subside. What on earth was she thinking? It was far too hot to be thinking about those sorts of thoughts. But still, Mr Number 5 did have a certain charm, even from a distance.

She turned off the shower and patted her face dry with a towel leaving the rest of her dripping wet. The house was fully carpeted, so no risk of slippery floors, and she would soon dry off in the heat. By the time she got down to the kitchen, she was already dry.

She found butter, cream cheese, and a whole cucumber in the fridge. It was too early to eat, but she thought if she made her lunch now, it would be ready for when she couldn’t be bothered to make it later. So she took two slices of multigrain from the bread bin and spread a thin layer of butter, followed by a thick layer of cream cheese. The cucumber felt cold and solid in her hand, and before slicing it, she caressed her neck with the cool fruit — much like Cindy Crawford did with a Pepsi can.

Another image of Mr Number 5 flashed through her mind. This time she let it linger in her thoughts — imagining his fiery red hair, tall, muscular frame and thick hard...

She came out of her reverie, not realising that she had started to massage her now wet pussy through her panties with the cucumber. Shit, she thought, washing it off before finishing making the sandwich.

With lunch sorted and in the fridge, she decided to take another cold shower. This time, she made sure it was extra cold to quell any naughty thoughts. In this, she was successful.

Downstairs again, she went into the front room and collapsed into the sofa in front of a large fan. She turned on the TV and started flicking through channels. Unfortunately, most daytime TV wasn’t high-quality broadcasting — property shows, garden shows, news, reality TV, children’s TV, etc., and so after not too long, Sharon fell asleep. As she gently dozed, she dreamed. She dreamed that Mr Number 5 was with her, caressing her gently, kissing her, then…

As she dreamed, her hand made its way down her panties and started rubbing her clit.

Little did she know, however, that despite her best-laid plans to stop people looking in, she had an audience. An audience of one — the one person she both did and did not want to see her. Over the road, Robert (Mr Number 5) was assembling some flat-packed furniture in the front bedroom of his new house. He was pretty engrossed in his work, but he decided to take a break and look out of the window at his new street on completing a bedside table. The houses in the cul-de-sac were beautiful Georgian detached houses. All the frontages were original — everything was perfect.

And then his eye landed on number 1, where something caught his attention. Or, more specifically, someone. At that angle, he could see over the net curtains, which only covered the bottom half of the windows at the sofa at the back of the room, where, if he was not mistaken, it looked like the woman who lived there was rubbing herself.

He had seen her over the last few weeks, and every time he looked over at her, he noticed she turned away. He hadn’t failed to notice the smile every time she did. As he continued to watch her, he felt his cock getting hard, and images started running through his mind — of her beautiful black skin, dripping in sweat from the heat. Her sizable arse and tits, both of which he greatly admired, were waiting to be freed from its clothing. Places to bury his face in, or even his…

Maybe this was his opportunity to introduce himself — see what would happen if he caught her off guard. So, he went downstairs, headed over the road, and pressed the doorbell.

Inside, Sharon bolted upright, startled by the bell which had hammered its way through her dreams.

Fuck, she thought, who could that be? She got up and approached the front door before realising that she was still mostly naked. A large overcoat hung nearby, which she grabbed and threw it on. Hopefully, whoever it was wouldn’t be too long — after only a few seconds, she was boiling.

She opened the door and was surprised to see Mr Number 5 on the other side.

‘Hi,’ he said with a smile, pleased with how panicked she looked, ‘I’m Robert, your new neighbour.’

Sharon tried to answer, but through a mixture of surprise, fear, and panic, all she could muster was, ‘h-h-h-h-hi?’

‘I saw you were in and thought this would be the perfect opportunity to introduce myself.’

A series of questions ran through her head. He saw that she was in? When? The… fuck, he must have seen me…? Maybe, does he like me? And just like that, she switched from being a panicked mess to hornier than a proverbial bitch in heat.

‘Come in,’ she beckoned, ‘please, have a seat in here.’

She led him into the front room and directed him to a chair — carefully avoiding the sofa she was using earlier.

‘Aren’t you hot?’

‘Err, why?’

‘In that coat?’

‘Oh, yes, I was taking a shower when you knocked — this was the first thing that I grabbed. Give me a moment whilst I go and change. Oh, and I’m Sharon, by the way.’

More than anything, knowing what was underneath, he wanted to say not to worry about it but thought she might not feel the same way about him as he did about her. So once she’d left, he went and inspected where she had been lying earlier. It was a leather sofa, and just where she had been, there was a little dribble of her cum. He knelt on the floor and licked it — it tasted good. He hoped for more.

He had just gotten back into his chair as Sharon came back. She was wearing a short summer dress, the hem of which was just above her knees.

‘Can I get you anything to drink?’ she asked, hoping he would say yes and stay. ’A tea, coffee, beer?’

‘I know it’s not even 10 am, but a nice cold beer would be delightful.’

‘OK, back in a moment.’

She disappeared to the kitchen. Whilst she was gone, Robert looked around the room. Photos of family and friends adorned the walls, as did artworks. One painting, in particular, looked familiar, so he got up to have a closer look. It was an Italian landscape. The Dolomites stood proudly in the background whilst by a wheat field; a solitary, naked woman walked along a path away from a village.

He was still looking at the painting when Sharon returned with the beer.

‘Where did you get this painting from?’

‘That? That’s my favourite painting ever. I bought it from a gallery in London three years ago. The artist is called Robert Knight. Do you know about him’

‘I’m familiar with him. It’s one of his early works, if I’m not mistaken. I thought he had destroyed this one — it isn’t one of his best paintings, but certainly not his worst.’

‘You know Knight’s work?’

‘More or less. I have a few.’

‘Really? I’d love to see them sometime. I’ve loved his paintings for years but could never afford one until now. Was it your shared name that attracted you to his work?’

‘Something like that. We could go over now and take a look if you like.’

So this man was cultured AND hot as fuck? If only she’d met him years ago.

‘I would love to.’

They went over the road to number five, but Robert took her through the garden to a modern-looking garden office rather than go in the house. She was puzzled but thought maybe he’d built a private art gallery for his collection.

It was a large room, with paintings hanging from floor to ceiling. Sharon recognised them as all being Knight’s style. She noticed, then, a table covered with paints and brushes, with an easel by it, shrouded by a large sheet, but she could tell there was a painting underneath it.

‘Do you paint as well?’ She asked.

‘I dabble. Why don’t you take a look under the sheet.’

Sharon lifted the sheet and stood back in amazement. It was, well, her, in front of her house, gardening. And it was in Robert Knight’s very distinctive style.

‘I… what… how…?’ she muttered.

‘I am Robert Knight.’

‘You’re…?’ Sharon was stunned.

‘Yes, the artist of all of these paintings, and the one on your front room wall.’

Sharon looked at him with disbelief. So many questions raced through her head, but none she seemed to be able to forge into words. She had loved his work for years but never dreamed she would meet him. And now, seeing what he looked like — young, handsome, and virile — she became incredibly turned on.

He took her back to his house, where they sat in the cooler air of the kitchen — one of the upgrades he’d made was to have the whole house air-conditioned. They’d not touched their beers, so Robert, Bobbie to his close friends, got a chilled bottle of white wine out of the fridge saying, ‘It feels more appropriate for an art show!’

They sat in silence, facing each other, both feeling, despite the heat, incredibly horny. Robert, however, was afraid to make the first move — he’d never had much luck with women. So they stared at each other, both knowing what the other wanted, but both were hesitant to make the first move.

‘So,’ Sharon said, trying to break the tension, ‘what are you working on at the moment?’

Robert sipped his drink.

‘For my gallery, I’m working on some large scale landscapes, but for my enjoyment?’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m working on something a little more… erotic.’

‘Oh? I’d love to see them.’

‘I don’t see why not, but there is one little problem.’

‘What?’

‘I require inspiration to paint, but so far, it has eluded me… until I moved here. Until I met you.’

He watched her closely, wondering what she would do next. Sharon drained her glass and stood up. She grabbed the hem of her dress.

‘How about I give you a little inspiration,’ she said, pulling up her dress to reveal she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Robert couldn’t contain himself any longer; he stood up and pushed Sharon against the wall. He knelt in front of her, grasped her thick black thighs and buried his face in her crotch. Sharon moaned as his tongue started exploring. Firstly outside, along her inner thigh and then around her crotch — a smooth experience. Sharon was beginning to feel hot again, so beads of sweat covered her beautiful black skin, which Robert eagerly lapped up. Then, he gently licked the outside of her pussy, causing her to tremble with excitement. Then, with force, he stuck his tongue deep inside her.

She grabbed Robert’s thick head of hair. She shivered as he passed his tongue over her g-spot — no man had ever managed to do that for her with his dick before, let alone with his tongue. And if that was what he could do with his tongue, she wondered what else he could do. He kept licking, exploring every millimetre he could reach inside her pussy, which was getting very wet. Whenever he stroked her g-spot, it caused another ripple of delight. Finally, after about a couple of dozen licks, she came. Pussy juices squirted into Robert’s mouth and down his throat. He lapped them up, savouring every little bit.

‘Come up and let me have a taste,’ Sharon beckoned, and so Robert removed his face from under her skirt and stood up to kiss her. His tongue explored her mouth as they shared her delicious juices.

Whilst they kissed, he grabbed hold of her dress and undressed her. He lifted it up and over her head, revealing her naked body. Since there were no panties, he guessed there would be no bra — and he was right. Her curvaceous chocolate body was beautiful — large breasts and a plump arse. He started undressing. First, unbuttoning his shirt, taking off his shoes and socks, and then pulling down his trousers. She fingered her pussy while watching him undress. Finally, he pulled down his boxers, revealing his fully hard cock.

Before he could do anything else, she knelt on the floor in front of him and gave him the most masterful blow job he had ever received. Starting at the base until she reached the tip, where a little dribble of cum had already seeped out, she teased him and wondered if she’d get the whole of it in her mouth since it was so long and thick. Tentatively she took in just the tip to start. Robert rested his hands on the back of her head, slightly grasping her long curly black hair, and gently guided her head in and out. He could feel her tongue caressing his cock, and waves of pleasure rippled through him as they had done through her when he was licking her pussy.

The once gentle motion became vigorous, as each inward movement pushed his cock in further and further. Finally, before Sharon choked on it, he pulled his cock out.

‘Come here,’ she said, standing and grabbing his cock. She led him back to the large, sturdy wooden kitchen table in the middle of the room. Robert took a cushion from the bench next to it and placed it on the table. He then lifted Sharon onto it and spread her legs apart.

He pulled her closer and caressed the outside of her pussy with the tip of his cock. Then, he slid it deep into her pussy. It was a tight fit, which made her cry out, ‘Oh fuck yeah!’ and arch her back, putting her breasts on full display to him.

‘Oh, that’s the fucking spot!’

He withdrew and then proceeded to push in again.

‘Oh yes. Come on. Fuck me harder.’

Robert started to speed up, getting rougher and rougher. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper into her pussy.

‘Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’

She could feel his cock rubbing against her g-spot, each time giving her another wave of pleasure. Each time building to the inevitable, and for her, she felt, long overdue orgasm. Robert kept up the pace, even seemed to get more frenetic. The seemingly sturdy oak table shook with each thrust.

Sharon’s orgasm became stronger and stronger until she screamed, ‘OH FUCK BABY!’ She came. Her pussy squirted all over his cock as he continued to fuck her.

Now all she could do was make a whimpering sound, feeling worn. But Robert, too, was nearly ready to cum.

‘Where do you want my load?’

‘Ooohhh. Give it to me all over my tits.’

Carefully he pulled his cock out of her tight pussy, and she climbed down off the table, nearly collapsing after the pounding she had just received, and got down on her knees as Robert started furiously masturbating.

He aimed his cock at her chest, and a considerable load fired out. Her tits were covered in hot sticky cum.

Robert stood back and leaned against the worktop.

‘That was quite the workout,’ he said, catching his breath. ‘That was probably the best I’ve had for a long time.’

Sharon looked up at him, and with a wry smile, said, ‘I think you could do a little better?’

‘Better? That sounds like a challenge.’

‘Perhaps, but I don’t think I can walk straight at the moment. Could you help me up?’

‘Sure. Let’s get you cleaned up as well.’

Robert helped her up. Together they went upstairs to the ensuite in his bedroom.