Member-only story
Oh, no! There’s thrush in Marjorie’s bush!
I;d just finished my morning moisturizing routine, when glancing from my bathroom window I noticed Ali lurking in the garden, spying over the fence in Marjorie’s direction, looking through an enormous pair of binoculars.
Now, you’ll remember Marjorie is Amanda’s lover. It’s all very squalid.
It’s beginning to get cooler at this time of year and much of the wildlife of the garden retreats into the foliage where it’s warmer. Ali takes a keen interest in such things.
I quickly pulled on a pale grey robe over my negligee and then quietly crept up beside Ali and tried to see what he was looking at so intently.
“What on earth are you perving at, Ali?” I asked, pulling my robe tightly around my body.
“It’s Marjorie’s pussy,” he whispered back, my attempt at humor going over his little brown head.
A moment later Marjorie’s back door swung out and she came striding across the garden towards us, her impressive physique sailing toward us like a battle ship with sixteen inch guns primed and being brought to bare directly at Ali.
“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, arms crossed across her thinly veiled breasts and looking like the lesbian god of thunder.