Bottoms Up

Nell didn’t need to look up to see Frank spying from his bedroom window. She felt his eyes on her behind as surely as if he stood behind her with x-ray specs. The glorious spring day had lured her into the garden early that morning and she was eager continue her planting. Assorted plants, compost and tools were scattered everywhere, the shed bursting with purchases from the local nursery.

Spring was her favourite season, and nothing delighted her more than to get on her knees and get dirty with the feel of fresh, aromatic soil on her fingers. The vibrant colours and fragrances of April had banished the starkness of winter and now skies were blue, birds sang and her domain called to her.
Nell tried to focus on digging a row of holes in which to plant some colourful chrysanthemums. Rhythmically thrusting the hand shovel into the soil, she removed the young plants from their plastic containers and prepared to plant them. She was beginning to drift into her zone, her oneness with nature, when she heard the slightest clatter.
Glancing up over her shoulder, she glimpsed Frank’s balding head vanish behind white blinds bent out of shape like a tortured skeleton. She rose and turned, hands on hips, to stare blatantly at the second-storey window.
“You’re pushing it, buddy,” she said.
She eyed a row of conifers planted on the west side of the yard. Thick and luxuriant, they were still three feet shy of blocking the view from their nosy neighbour. She mentally cursed her decision not to spend the money on taller, more mature trees that would have shielded the back yard by now.
Nell stared at the window once more and with a shake of her head, returned to her gardening. Surely after three years the novelty of spying on a middle-aged couple would have worn off by now. There were no nubile daughters living at home, no large gatherings filled with voluptuous women to gawk at. Their socializing was centred more on going out, which they had always enjoyed, but lately had become more of a means to procure a degree of privacy.
Though Nell considered both herself and her husband, Gerry, reasonably attractive, she didn’t consider themselves fodder for voyeurism. Certainly now, dressed in an old t-shirt and faded stretch capris, unwashed blonde hair twisted in a careless knot, she was not at her most alluring.
Gradually, her irritation faded as she planted the row. It was still early, barely ten, and she wouldn’t have to worry about lunch until Gerry returned from his errands. There was the barbecue to clean up, a new hose to replace….
Once again that distinctive little clatter distracted her. She twisted around and this time, caught Frank fumbling to extricate himself from the blinds. He blinked at her from behind thick glasses, his pasty face vanishing from sight like a sea creature sinking into the depths. Nell gripped the hand shovel until her knuckles hurt. Anger suffused her. Enough was enough.
“Now you’ve crossed the line,” she muttered.
The distant sound of the garage door opening distracted her. Dropping her shovel, she marched into the house. Gerry, a tall, silvering gregarious man, entered the kitchen with several bags from the hardware store. He smiled and set the bags on the breakfast bar.
“You’ll never guess who I bumped into,” he said. “I was at the checkout and …”
“ I’m done with that prick!” Nell shouted.
Gerry stared dumbstruck at her.
“What the hell? Not again!”
“ I’m telling you, Ger, this has to stop. I’m sick of that perv burning a hole in my ass. There has to be something we can do.”
Gerry shook his head. “It’s disgusting the way he gets away with this. Three years is enough.”
“Can’t we call the police?”
“And say what? He could tell them he’s bird watching. And even if we try to video him, he always hides behind those damned blinds. We can’t prove he’s actually staring at your ass.”
A thought struck Nell. She mulled it around, then grinned.
“I have a great idea.”
“ I’m all ears.”
“For the last three years he’s been spying on us. So why don’t we give him a real show?”
“Your ass isn’t already a show?”
Nell glared at him.
Gerry held out his hands.
“It’s a joke, for God’s sake. When did you lose your sense of humour?’
“Like I said, Ger, let’s give him a real show.”
“What did you have in mind?” Gerry asked, his curiosity growing.
Nell gestured toward the laptop resting on the breakfast bar.
“Let me show you what I have in mind,” she said. “A little research should give us more than a few ideas.”
Later that afternoon, Gerry went into the yard and busied himself cleaning the barbecue. Nell emerged a moment later dressed in a skimpy pink tank top with no bra and tight denim shorts. She went into the shed, retrieved a gardening stool and more planting supplies and continued where she had left off earlier that day.
She made a point of leaning over on the stool as often as possible. Every now and again Gerry casually glanced toward Frank’s window. Though he glimpsed a shadowy form behind the blinds, he couldn’t actually see Frank.
“I know you’re there, you bottom feeder,” he muttered under his breath.
“Stop acting suspiciously,” Nell whispered. “We don’t want to tip our hand.”
“You want to do this now?” Gerry asked. “Or else I’m ordering some fully grown oak trees.”
“Excuse me?” she shouted.
Gerry took the cue. He tossed his cleaning utensils to the grass.
“I said we’re not made of money. Didn’t I tell you we need a new car before some fancy vacation in a country I can’t even pronounce?”
Nell dropped her shovel and stalked angrily toward Gerry.
“ You’ve been promising a vacation ever since our anniversary last year!” she yelled as shrilly as possible. “It’s bad enough you forgot our anniversary, but every time I mention a vacation, you act like a turtle retreating into its shell!”
Gerry stormed toward her. “You think I’m made of money?”
Nell noticed a flicker of movement from her peripheral vision. She rolled her eyes toward the window.
“You think my name is slave?”
“That’s it!” Gerry bellowed. “ I’ve had enough of your insolent attitude!”
He grabbed her. Nell uttered a shriek for effect. She feebly struggled while Gerry, struggling not to laugh, sat on the stool and bent Nell over his lap. He grabbed the shovel and began smacking her buttocks.“If you’re going to behave like a spoiled brat,” Gerry said, “then you deserve to be treated like one.”
Nell squirmed and squealed, at first for effect, but then from genuine discomfort as his firm smacks began to make her cheeks burn. Yet despite the rhythmic stinging sensation, she oddly found the feeling pleasant. In fact, it was almost arousing. Glancing at Gerry, she was somewhat shocked to find a look of enjoyment on his face.
But it was the glimpse of Frank, standing open-mouthed at the window that gave her the greatest satisfaction.
Got you, perv, she thought.
“Get your hands off me!” she cried, glancing toward the window.
Gerry, into the scenario, carried on.
“No way! It’s about time you learned to mind your mouth.”
He unbuttoned Nell’s shorts and yanked them down to her ankles. Because they were so tight they also dragged down her flowered bikini panties.
Now there was no need to act. Nell shrieked in genuine indignation as her pearly white buttocks were exposed to the sky and Frank’s bulging eyes.
Caught in the moment, Gerry stared in admiration at Nell’s rounded and still firm cheeks glowing pink from his ministrations with the shovel. He felt the heat rising from her flesh and intrigued, smacked her with his hands.
“Gerry,” Nell whispered. “Okay… you can stop now. I don’t need him jerking off while he watches us.”
“Oh, he’s watching, all right,” Gerry said. “I want to see if he raises those damned blinds. If we can put on enough of a show maybe we can set up a remote camera and record him in the act.”
“You had enough?” he shouted for effect, though he was clearly enjoying himself. “You going to stop acting like a two-year old?”
“You’d better be ready to kiss it and make it better,” she muttered. “My ass is killing me.”
Gerry gave her a few more smacks. He observed with pleasure the way Nell’s cheeks wobbled like milky mounds of pudding.
“That’s the idea,” he said gleefully.
“Enough!” Nell cried, heaving him off of her and rolling to the grass. The coolness instantly relieved her burning cheeks. She struggled to pull up her panties and shorts.
From the window, Frank still watched. Sure enough, the blinds were drawn, as if he wanted no impediment to his view. Rising to her feet, Nell mustered an angry look and shot it at Gerry.
“You can cook your own dinner tonight!” she cried, storming into the house.
A few moments later, Gerry came inside. He looked at Nell and Nell looked at him. Both burst out laughing, then Nell soundly slapped Gerry’s buttocks. He stopped in mid-laugh and stared at her.
“I liked that,” he said.
“You did?”
“Quite a lot, actually.”
“You never told me this before.”
“You never asked,” Gerry said.
“I liked it too,” Nell admitted.
A pregnant pause.
“So… do you want to set up the camera?” she asked.
“I’ll run to the store and grab one. I can set it up tonight.”
“We’ll have to give an Oscar-worthy performance tomorrow,” Nell said.
Gerry straightened and pulled a serious face.
“Al Pacino, eat your heart out,” he said.
The next day proved even more glorious, with balmy temperatures suitable for the bikini top and cut off shorts Nell wore as she worked diligently in the garden. Gerry continued with his cleaning of the barbecue, but cast discreet glances toward the camera lens peeking inconspicuously from the side of the shed.
Nell paused and pretended to wipe her forehead. Noticing the blinds jiggling from Frank’s room, she bent over to pick up some debris from her freshly planted flower bed.
“ I’m getting hot out here, Ger. Can you get me a wine cooler?”
Gerry stopped and glared at her.
“A bit early to be hitting the booze, isn’t it? It’s eleven in the morning.”
Nell gave him the finger.
“Whatever you say, Daddy. Why don’t you fix me a Kool Aid instead?”
Gerry scowled.
“You need another lesson in manners? What’s with you lately?”
“You, unfortunately.”
Gerry stormed toward her. This time Nell wielded her hand shovel like a weapon. A giggle bubbled in her chest. She struggled to suppress it. This is kind of fun, she thought, giving Gerry the finger.
“Dream on,” Gerry retorted.
“That’s all it’s been anyway,” Nell said.
They wrangled. Gerry dropped to his knees and bent Nell over his lap. This time the task of pulling down her shorts was simpler. His eyes lingered on the lacy red thong peeking invitingly between cheeks still blushed from the previous day’s spanking.
“Good lord…” he murmured, and promptly raised his hand to smack those peachy mounds.
Nell winced and cried out but despite herself found the pleasurably painful sensation intensely arousing. She wiggled, the motion jiggling her cheeks. The alluring sight spurred Gerry to spank her harder, eliciting lusty moans from Nell. He paused to feel her hot, vibrating flesh between smacks.
A muted crash caught their attention. They looked in unison toward Frank’s window. Tangled within the blinds that had somehow collapsed on top of him, he struggled to extricate himself. Nell smiled to Gerry, knowing that the hidden camera was capturing the action.
Gerry sighed.
“Oh, well, guess we can stop now. We have all the evidence we need.”
Nell smiled and winked at him.
“Who says we need to stop?”