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Beth has a backdoor encounter for her third tryst.

She set the timer and let it snap a few frames as she walked, knelt, and sat in front of the camera, then checked the results. She corrected the position of the camera and tried a second time, and this time was satisfied, noting to herself an imaginary boundary in the grass where she would need to stay for the camera to "see" her.

She called Ted back. "I'm ready."

"Good girl," he answered. "Tell me what you have on today."

"Jeans, my tan stripe tee. Purple panties and the matching floral print bra."

"Okay. And no one should be coming home for a while, right?"

"No, it'll be hours. Like 5 or 6 o'clock probably, why?"

Emily had an idea what Ted was going to make her do now.

"After I hang up, set the timer to take shots continuously, maybe every 15 seconds or so; you decide what works best. I want you to strip for the camera. Smile at it, make eye contact. Imagine you're stripping for an audience and they paid good money to watch you. Take things off, piece by piece, until you're just in your panties. Then take a few more poses, and then pick up your things and go back inside. Don't get dressed until you're inside, just carry your clothes. Then send the pictures to me. Got it?"

"Yeah," Emily answered. She wasn't expecting Ted to tell her to get topless outside; she was thinking he'd have her strip to her underwear and stop. No matter, she'd do as she was told. It made Ted happy, and that was what Emily loved to do.

"Okay, bye Angel," and Ted hung up.

The Mitchells had a daily morning routine. After Walter and his wife Louise had breakfast, she would wait outside on the porch for the van that would ferry her to the Sea Coast Senior Center, where she'd play cards, knit, and trade stories with the residents until lunch time. She and her husband weren't far from needing to be there themselves, especially Walter, who was having difficulty getting around on his own lately.

They both knew it was a matter of months now, maybe sooner, and they'd have to sell their home and make plans for the latter part of their long, full lives together.

Once Louise had left, Walter usually spent the morning in his favorite chair and surfed up and down the hundred-odd channels on their TV until he felt hungry again and made a light snack, then he'd have a nap until Louise returned for lunch. Today he had skipped the cereal and just had coffee, so he got up earlier than usual to make his snack. As he got to the kitchen, he glanced at the window over the sink and saw that the young girl next door was doing something out in her backyard. He paused to watch, just out of curiosity.

Art couldn't sleep. He had worked a particularly tiring shift at the truck stop the night before, and the hot shower hadn't helped his aching muscles much. He had tossed and turned for a few hours, and finally gave up, deciding he'd try to sleep later in the afternoon.

He got out of bed, naked as usual since there was no one to be modest for, and walked to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge. Carrying one and sipping the other, he headed to the bathroom for a piss. As he relieved himself, he reached up and opened the small frosted glass window over the toilet. It only slid up a couple of inches and would go no farther, as the frame was bent, but it allowed the cool, fresh air to enter the room, and that made Art feel a bit better.

He finished the first beer and pulled the flush handle, tossing the empty bottle into the wastebasket, where it clinked against several others. He saw something through the small opening in the window. It looked like someone was in the back yard next door.

Art was nosy by nature, but especially when it came to his neighbors on this side, because the neighbors had a daughter, and she was a hottie.

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