It was a hot, late summer’s Saturday evening. I was about 14 at the time and full of spots and hormones. Lucy, by contrast, was a goddess, or she was to all the lads on the street. At 18-years-old, almost 6 feet tall, slim, short blond hair and legs that seemed to go on forever. I was lucky, she lived next door and I often got to see her sunbathing with her girlfriends in the garden.

It was an evening like any other, well up until about 9.00 pm, just as it was going dark. Mum was out with a friend across the road, but she had asked me to water the flower pots when it cooled down. I was just finishing the third watering can of water when I heard a door slam next door. We rarely heard a peep from them, being that the houses were detached. They too had the windows open and curtains closed to keep the sun out and the rooms cooler. This of course had the advantage/disadvantage that you could hear what the neighbours were doing.

As I started to pour the fourth can of water, I heard voices, which I quickly realised were the lovely Lucy and her mum, Billie. Billie was fit, a keen runner and tennis player and for her age very attractive.

“What have I told you about doing that, Lucy!” shouted Billie. I stopped watering and listened intently.

“Get off my case, mother! Don’t tell me you have never done it. I won’t believe you!” shouted Lucy.

Oh, this was getting interesting. I wondered what she had been up to.

“Yes, once, and that was more than enough. I felt sick and, by all accounts, was as green as a frog when your grandma came out and caught me!” Billie admitted.

“Hypocrite! So it’s alright for you to experiment, but I can’t? Right, I get the picture!” Lucy went on.

“There is nothing cool about smoking, Lucy. It is vile, it makes you smell, and in all likelihood will kill you. I was goaded into it by my friends and never did it again,” Billie told her daughter.

“Like I should believe that. You are a hypocrite,” Lucy continued. “A hypocrite!”

“I never wanted to touch them, and your grandma tanned my bare backside so well, even if I did fancy it, I wouldn’t dare!” Billie confessed.

Wow, I thought as I imagined Billie’s bottom being royally spanked. I was dragged back to reality as the shouting continued, and if anything went up a notch.

“Well, I am 18 and there’s nothing on God’s Earth you can do to stop me if I want to smoke, is there?” Lucy spat with venom now.

Wow, this was a new side to ‘The Goddess’ I didn’t know even existed.

“You want to bet?” Billie said a little more calmly. “Well how about this!”

“Get off! Get off! What are you doing, mum? Let go!” Lucy almost pleaded.

“No, you can’t say you don’t have this coming. Get here.” Billie sounded to be struggling.

“No, no, stop it!” Billie shouted, more than a tone of concern in her voice.

And then I heard it. Smack! Smack!

“Stop it, stop it! You can’t do this! I am 18, for goodness sake, not a toddler. Stop it!” Lucy protested.

Smack! Smack! Smack! The muffled sound repeated many times, quite rapidly and then it suddenly stopped. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the lovely Lucy was getting her bottom spanked presumably, with the fuss, laying across her mother’s lap.

Oh, what I would have paid to get a glimpse of what had just unfolded only 20 feet from me.

My feet were now soaked by the watering can which I had let slip whilst transfixed by the happenings next door. However, that was not the end of the entertainment for the evening.

“No, no, you can’t! Stop! No!” Lucy screeched in pain and disbelief.

As suddenly as it had stopped, the sound of spanking began once more. Now, however, it was far more of a slap, and certainly no longer muffled. I suddenly realised that when the spanking began, Lucy must have been wearing a dress or skirt which was pulled up and the spanks muffled by her panties. Now, they must have been pulled down, hence the commotion, and she was getting it on her bare bum!

At age 14, this was gold dust! ‘Wait until I tell the guys at school on Monday,’ I thought. If only the curtains had been open. The slapping continued for another 10 or so spanks and then it stopped. Throughout, the sound track was mixed with cries and grunts from Lucy as her bottom was repeatedly spanked. Then, it was over. Silence for what seemed an hour but was probably only a few seconds.

“I hope that…” Billie spoke first.

“Don’t you lecture me!” Lucy called as a door slammed within the house.

Lucy was clearly no longer across Billie’s knee. The sound show was over. Well, not quite. As I stood looking at my soaked feet, I heard the back door at Billie’s house open and slam shut, then the dim figure of Lucy emerged from the shadows. She hadn’t seen me. She was rubbing her bottom through her rather short skirt as she stormed up the garden towards me. Then she spotted me.

“What are you doing, Tom? Peeping Tom, is it now?” she directed her anger at me.

“No, watering the flowers,” I said pathetically, and theatrically held up the empty can to prove the point.

Conceding the point that maybe she was mistaken, Lucy glared through the gloom and pointed at me before saying in a menacing voice, “If you ever, ever tell anyone about this I will have your guts for garters. Understand?”

I just stood there gawking.

“I said, do you understand?” she repeated.

Right then, she realised why I was transfixed. In the hand she pointed with, she was holding a pair of knickers; brief red ones. When her mum pulled her panties down, they must have come off, and she had picked them up and left in a huff without putting them back on. Her humiliation was complete, and she sank to her knees and cried. I half thought about vaulting the low fence between the gardens, but I thought she was more likely to give me a right hook than a hug, so pathetically, I just quietly made my way back into the house and took off my wet shoes.

“Hello Tom, I’m home,” shouted mum as I stood red-faced in the kitchen. “Wow, it’s hot in here. Why don’t we go outside, it’s much better.”

“I’ve done the flowers, mum,” I said by way of reply.

“Yes, and you have watered yourself too, judging by the wet footprints.”

Grabbing a couple of ice cold cola’s, mum ushered me outside. I heard the door next door close just as we went out.

“So, what have you been up to this evening, Tom, other than watering your feet?”

“Oh, nothing much, ” I replied. “I watched some TV, watered the plants and listened to the wonderful sounds of nature,” I added cryptically.

Lucy was very distant for weeks afterwards, and I dare not tell my mates. They’d either think I was making it up or want to come round in case there was a repeat performance.

Soon after, Lucy left for university and the next year, Billie and her husband separated and sold the house, so there never was a second performance.