10 comments/ 60672 views/ 45 favorites The Widow Next Door By: Robot_Shark I was sitting on a stool at the breakfast counter as my wife came into the kitchen. She was dressed in a lightweight, beige muslin blazer and skirt set. The pleated skirt was rather on the short side for business attire, but her long, well-defined legs were covered with glittery, semi-opaque hose and and elegant, matching beige pumps with only a moderate heel. She looked appropriately professional for a real estate agent. In deference to the Arizona heat, she wore her sun-bleached hair up, off the back of her neck. Ringlets of blonde curls that had escaped her bun and a pair of dangly gold earring framed her face. She looked damn fine for 34. Her mother had been a professional model at one time, and thanks to genetics and her strenuous workout routine, she still had the sort of firm, toned body plenty of 25-year-olds had already given up on. Her booty was a bit more generous than it had been in college, but it only made her sexier. She noticed that my spandex swim trunks were my sole piece of clothing. "Are you headed next door for a swim?" she asked. Our neighbor, Maureen, allowed us unrestricted access to the pool in her backyard, a fairly typical Arizona amenity our house lacked. "Mmhmm," I mumbled, slurping the last of the Cheerios from my bowl. "Sometime this morning. I need to rewrite that last chapter first." Being able to spend my workday in just a pair of lycra jammers was one of the fringe benefits of being a freelance writer. "I need to take off pretty quick; I have a showing over in Scottsdale at nine," she said, walking past me. "But I need to have a word with you first." She grabbed a commuter mug and stepped over to the coffeepot. I watched my wife's shapely legs as she moved. "Evie, you are going to burn up out there." I volunteered. "You should lose the hose." "Ha!" She chuckled dismissively. "Not in this outfit." "Everybody dresses for the heat this time of year; bare legs wouldn't get a second notice." "You just want me to do it because you think short skirts and bare legs are sexy. I need to remember that that's all you think about." It was mostly true; on the inside, I'm still a 12-year-old boy looking at his first nudie magazine. I've had a high sex drive for as long as Evie has known me, and it didn't slacked off when we hit our thirties. Fortunately, she usually responds enthusiastically to my erotic impulses. She says I encourage her to stay in touch with her inner nympho. I got up and carried my bowl and cup to the sink. "Maybe the idea does turn me on," I responded. "So what? More comfortable AND sexier; that's a win-win." "Sorry, I don't think so." I came up behind her, lifted up the back of her skirt, and slid my hand over one smooth, pantyhose-covered cheek. I realized she wasn't wearing any panties underneath the the semi-sheer hose. She slapped my hand away in mock indignation and smoothed her skirt. "Thank you for demonstrating my point. This skirt is short enough as it is. I don't need to give anybody ideas. You men are all alike, you know." "Suit yourself," I shrugged. "But it's already almost a hundred degrees out there." As she reached to pull up a barstool, I observed nothing but a white lace bra inside her blazer. I put my finger inside the lapel and pulled it away from her as I positioned myself for a better look. "No camisole? It seems that you've taken some countermeasures to combat the summer heat after all." "Do you think I need one? This neckline isn't too low, is it?" "Do you think I would actually tell you if it was?" I said playfully. Evie knows that I love when she wears revealing outfits in public. "No, it's fine," I reassured her. "Well, it's fine unless I lean over like that in front of my clients," she said with a smirk. "What do you need to talk to me about?" I asked. "Let's sit down," she said and guided me back to the barstools at the counter. "Whoa. This must be serious," I said. "I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to promise you'll answer honestly." I nodded for her to continue. "Well..." she sighed heavily. "David, you think Maureen's still an attractive woman, don't you?" "Excuse me?" I said in disbelief. "You... Um..." she stammered. "I mean... You... You find that, sexually... she can be arousing. Sometimes, at least. Don't you?" I didn't like where this line of questioning was headed. Despite the fact that she was more than twenty years older than my wife and me, the fact was that I had ogled Maureen's body many times. She may have developed a bit of a middle-aged pooch to her belly and crows-feet around her eyes over the years, but she had a warm smile, full lips, smooth limbs, and a killer rack that she wasn't shy about showing off. She often wore blouses and swimsuits that revealed plenty of cleavage. I'd fantasized more than once what it would feel like to bury my face-or my cock-between those mounds. And when I did, I was fortunate to be able to visualize exactly what those tits actually looked like. You see, the window in my upstairs office has an unobstructed view over the fence, and more than a few times I'd caught her sunbathing topless. Her tits were surprisingly firm for their ample size and cone-shaped, so they jutted prominently away from her body and swayed delightfully when she walked around bare-chested. The least flattering position for a well-endowed woman of any age can be lying on her back, which often turns even the sexiest nipples into fat, flabby puddles within a sea of flesh. But Maureen's tits always looked great, even fully reclined. When she stretched out on her lounger, two large, puffy, dark areolae kept her substantial nipples standing proud atop her melons. Frankly, her breasts were masterpieces. I struggled to answer. "I... I..." Inside, my thoughts raced through all our past interactions with Maureen. I always though I had hidden my fascination with our neighbor's body well enough that nobody would notice. Obviously, something had tipped my wife off. Had my wife seen me? Had I let my eyes dwell too indiscreetly on her breasts while we were all in the pool together? Had Maureen seen me at the window and complained? My mind went back to the time I had secretly watched her husband, Hal, fondle those gorgeous tits as he fucked her. I was working in my office late at night, about 1 AM, when I noticed Maureen swimming topless in the moonlight. As I watched, Hal came out and got in the pool. He grabbed her hand, led her to the shallowest end of the pool, and bent her over the side. She spread her hands out in front of her on the concrete to steady herself as he slipped out of his swim trunks. He stroked himself fully erect, pulled her bikini bottom to one side, and immediately entered her. Damn, I thought at the time; either she's used to putting up with zero foreplay, or she gets horny and wet easily. Or both. "Would you say Maureen appeals to you?" my wife asked again. Evie searched deep into my eyes. "David?" I still hadn't answered her question. If she felt threatened by our widowed neighbor, I needed to reassure her that nothing could be further from the truth. "Honey, you're the only one I could ever love." "Oh, I know that, baby. If I didn't, I wouldn't be asking." She smiled warmly and reached out to touch my cheek, in the process giving me another downblouse view of her lacy bra. "I'm just talking about your most basic, sexual response." I still wasn't sure how to respond, but we had been married long enough that she knew when I was lying, and I knew she'd stick with me even if the truth made her angry. I had to admit, she didn't seem very aggressive at the moment. "Yes, I'll admit that she's attractive-for an older woman." I tried to hide behind my gender as a defense: "I think any man would say that she definitely has sex appeal." She sighed and put her hand to her heart. "Oh, good." "Good?" I repeated in disbelief. "Wh...what? Why is that good?" "Well, this is the tricky part," she said cautiously. "I had Maureen over for coffee a couple days ago. Hal has been gone over two years, and she's desperately stick of being alone." "I can only imagine how lonely she feels. Hal was a great guy, and they were a very close, loving couple." "I didn't say she's lonely; I said she's sick of being alone." She just looked at me for a moment, saying nothing. There was some connection I was not yet making here. "What are you getting at?" I finally asked with a puzzled expression. "David! I mean PHYSICALLY alone-celibate." "She wants a MAN?" I said in amazement. "She NEEDS a man, David. She hasn't gotten laid in over two years. She and Hal were always very sexually active, and it is starting to make her depressed. She's never had to deal with this before." "So? What does that have to do with us?" "I've been trying to think of a way to help." "Help her get LAID?" The idea was absurd. "She doesn't need our permission to go pick up a guy. What do you want me to, pimp her out to my buddies?" "No. It's not that simple. The men her age are either looking for a wife and romance, or they're boning every woman they meet. She doesn't want to go back to keeping house for some guy, and she doesn't want to just get nailed by strangers who are passing around god-knows-what disease. She wants a good friend she can feel safe with, who will be gentle and respect her health, and on the other hand respect her desire to be emotionally independent." It dawned on my what my wife might be suggesting. I suddenly felt as though I was in a dream, unable grasp this reality. Surely she wasn't implying what I thought she was implying. "What are you saying, Honey?" I asked tentatively. "How would you like-" She paused to study my expression. "A free pass with Maureen." "A free pass? As in a SEX pass?" "Uh huh," she nodded hopefully. "You're going to just chill and let your husband run around fucking the neighbors?" "C'mon Dave, it's not 'the neighbors.' ONE neighbor; not plural. And yes, I am giving you permission. Even more that, I WANT you to. You'll disappoint me if you say no." "What if she's not interested in me?" I asked. "But she is!" she said excitedly. "We've talked about it. She thinks it's a great idea. She told me that she actually fantasizes about you." "Huh," was all I could say. Once my brain caught up with the spectacular curve ball life had just thrown at me, I let myself be flattered by the realization that Maureen thought I was hot. My mind's eye pictured her spread eagle on her bed, rubbing her clit and thinking of me. The image sent a tingling twitch to my cock. Then I thought about the next time I would see her sunbathing topless: would I really be able to just go over and take her, right there in the back yard? I imagined myself cumming on her big, protruding tits. My rod began to swell a bit. "This may be a weird question," I said to Evie, "but how would this work? Would you, like, arrange it for me? Would you..."-I couldn't fully comprehend that we were actually discussing this-"want to be there, be present?" "No, nothing strange like that. Just be the same friend you've always been, and let it happen." "Do you need to know about it in advance?" "No, not really." "Do you want to know bout it afterwards? I don't want to feel like there's something in our life I can't share with you." "Well, I don't really need the play-by-play, but you don't need to hide it from me, either. I mean, It's okay to discuss whatever you want. We can acknowledge that you're doing it, if that's what you mean." "What about frequency? How often do you see me doing this?" "I don't know. I wouldn't want it to take away from our sex life, our intimate times." "I definitely wouldn't want it to, either. But I'm not 19 anymore." "Given the size of your sexual appetite, I don't foresee it being a huge issue." She gestured to the front of my jammers. "See what I mean?" The stretchy material was doing nothing to hide my burgeoning erection. She bent over and pulled the spandex down to my hips, exposing my cock. Without hesitation, she slipped the head of my cock between her lips and gently sucked as she expertly swirled her tongue around the tip. It felt heavenly. Within just a few moments, my shaft was rock hard. She stopped and looked at her watch. "I gotta go," she said as she stood up. "I just figured I would kickstart your motor." She grabbed her mug and briefcase and I followed her into the front foyer. We kissed and she stroked the underside of my penis. "Ha!" she said, "It's like I'm your fluffer!" And with that, she walked out the door. I was in a state of utter disbelief, and I still had to make a living, so I took my numbed senses up to my office and occupied my thoughts for most of the morning with revising and correcting the latest draft of my book. About 11 AM, I glanced out the window and noticed Maureen walking around her pool, removing leaves with a skimmer net. She was topless, and her skin was glistening with tanning oil. She was wearing a black bikini bottom with extremely high-cut leg openings that exposed her hipbones and a waist that came almost to her belly button. It was an intelligent choice, I thought to myself. The extra material in front helped conceal the extra roundness of her belly while the high leg openings drew attention to her attractive stems. After a few minutes, she disappeared into the house again. I briefly wondered where she would prefer to have sex. On the couch? In her bed? Outside? Would I ever lean her over the side of the pool and take her from the rear, the way her husband had? Suddenly I realized that fantasy might now be very, very attainable. My dick was starting to respond when a buzz from my cell phone interrupted my reverie. It was a text from Evie: I AM SO HOT RIGHT NOW. I chuckled and dialed her number. "Well, I don't want to say I told you so," I said as soon as she picked up. "You should have taken my advice and taken off the pantyhose." "I did," she said. I could tell she was whispering. "I only made it through one showing before I pulled over at a convenience store and took them off in the bathroom." "Wow!" I said, pleasantly titillated. "Are you going around pantiless in THAT skirt?" "Yes, and it has made me very hot. The OTHER kind of hot-HORNY hot." "Really? You've gone without underwear before, and it hasn't made you THAT horny." "I've never been totally barenaked under a skirt THIS short and THIS flouncy before. And..." she paused. "I've never accidentally flashed a client before." "What?" I exclaimed. "We were outside, climbing the stairs to a second-floor deck. He was right behind me on the stairs when the breeze blew my skirt clear up to my waist!" "He probably didn't notice," tried to assure her. "Yes, he definitely did. Since then he's been totally hitting on me, telling me that I have a beautiful body, and that he likes my choice of outfit, stuff like that. He definitely knows. And the wildest part? He's doing all this in front of his wife." "Really?" "Yep. Get this: on his mortgage application, he listed two resorts he owns-SWINGER resorts." "How do you know for sure they're swinger resorts?" "Because they both told me so, several times!" "Are they still there?" "They're in the other room, talking privately about the house. I think they might make an offer on it. That's why I'm trying to whisper. I'm actually trying to figure out how I can do it again, deliberately. Is that bad?" "No, it's sexy as all hell in my book. Is it just flashing your bare assets that has you hot and bothered, or this guy hitting on you?" "Well, all of it! Just knowing full well that if I just lifted my skirt and bent over right now, this guy might saddle up and bone me in a heartbeat, with his wife standing right there! For some reason that just seems so erotic right now. I guess it doesn't hurt that I've also spent the last three days imagining you and Maureen doing it." "That turns you on, too?" "Well, yes! Of course!" "Well, you naughty, naughty, girl. That's pretty cool. If Maureen is willing, would you be interested in watching for real?" "Ummm." there was a long pause on the phone. "Hell yes." I decided to see if a little explicit phone sex would heighten her arousal. "So when you imagine watching us fuck, what do see yourself doing? Are you nude, as well? Would you play with yourself?" "Oh, I would have to. I would get my purple vibrator, the really fat one, and I would push it deep into my pussy. I would spread my legs really wide and let both of you watch me fuck my pussy with it." When Evie gets sexually charged up, she definitely has a dirty imagination. Since she had confessed to being bi-curious several times in the past, I said, "You could put your pussy in Maureen's face and let her tongue your snatch while you watch my dick slide in and out of her." "So help me...David, my pussy is going to be dripping if you don't shut up." "Or maybe I can hump you doggy style while you suck on Maureen's clit and finger her hole." "Okay, stop it," she said firmly. I heard voices in the background. "David, I have to go," Evie said and hung up. I looked out the window to find Maureen, still topless, relaxing in a shaded corner of her patio with a book and a glass of iced tea. My cock was already at half mast from my phone conversation with Evie. I decided it was time to go down and pay Maureen a visit. I walked next door and pushed open the gate in the privacy fence. "David, Hello," Maureen said. "Should I go put a top on?" "Don't need to on my account," I replied. I set my phone on the table and took a seat in a lawn chair near her lounger. "Evie told me about the discussions you've been having, and about the little arrangement you've cooked up." "And?" she said expectantly. "I'm cool with it if you are." She set down her iced tea and sat up, her tits jiggling nicely as she did. "Just 'cool with it'?" "No, much more than that. I am incredibly excited. You are a sexy, desirable woman and a wonderful friend. I can't tell you how many times I have lusted after you." "That's very nice to hear, David. You should know that the feeling is mutual. You're a very sexy man. You've noticed me going topless a lot more often lately?" "Yes, I have noticed that." "That's been for you. Well, partially for you; I do enjoy it myself. But ever since I noticed you watching me from your office, I have enjoyed showing off for you. "You have amazing tits." "You're not the first man to tell me that, but it has been such a long time. It's nice to hear." She let her eyes drop to my crotch. My semi-erect cock was very apparent under the thin stretch fabric. "You don't need to be shy. Take your trunks off. Let me finally see you." She stood up and peeled off her bikini bottoms. I stripped nude as well, my cock rapidly stiffening. Seeing her body completely nude for the first time, I was surprised that her pussy was completely bare. Also, unlike my wife's, Maureen's pussy had big, loose labia. "Do you always keep it shaved?," I asked. Maureen nodded. For some reason, the mental image of my wife licking her totally bare gash popped into my head, which got me even more aroused. "Do you want to go inside, where it's more private?" I asked. "Don't need to on my account," she smiled. Just then my phone buzzed. "Hang on a sec, it's Evie," I said to Maureen. "Hello?" I then said into the phone. "What's going on?" Evie asked. Hoping she was still in her aroused state, I said, "I'm with Maureen by the pool. We're both nude. We're about to have sex." "Me too, if it's okay with you," Evie said. "Whaaat?" I gasped. "Well, since you've got a free pass, can I have just a teensy little, one-time one? Pretty please?" The Widow Next Door "You really want to have sex with your client?" I asked. Maureen perked up considerably as she listened to my half of the conversation, so I hit the speaker phone. "Well, not really," Evie was saying. "Only sort of. Mr. Pinochet has suggested that Mrs. Pinochet give him a blow job while he watches me strip and finger myself." "So, you're not actually going to fuck him." "No bodily contact whatsoever." "Ahhh, well..." It wasn't as bad as I feared, but I wasn't sure how to respond. "If I do it, they'll agree to buy the house at the full asking price, which is 1.2 MILLION dollars." "Evie, you should never do something like that for the sake of a commis-" "No, I'm definitely not," She interrupted. "But I have to admit that having money involved makes it more erotic. For the first time in my life, I really feel like a cheap slut." "Let her do it," Maureen said. "It's not going to do any harm, and given what I'm about to do to you, I think you owe it to her." "Davy, I'm SOOOO turned on right now, and I REEEEALLY want to do this. Just standing here talking to you, I can hardly keep my skirt down. PLEEEASE?" Her voice sounded genuinely desperate. "Sure," I said. "Go have fun." "You, too!" she shouted excitedly. "I'll tell you all about it later!" I disconnected the call and tossed the phone onto the table again. "How about that. This day has certainly not been at all what I was expecting when I woke up this morning." "I'll bet not. Now get over here," Maureen said. I stepped over to the lounger where she was sitting. She took my cock into her hand and started stroking it, then licking it, then sucking it. I reached down and fondled one of her glorious tits; it was as soft and warm and firm and pleasurable as I had imagined. I teased her nipple and felt it stiffen. In no time at all, my shaft was sticking out like a flagpole. Maureen pulled my cock from her mouth, sat up, puckered her lips and let a good-sized gob of saliva drop onto her pussy. She smeared it around the opening of her vagina. "Okay, get on top of me." Evie usually needed at least a good 10 minutes of foreplay before she was ready for penetration. "Are you sure you're ready?" I asked. "It's been more than two years since I've felt a cock in me. Trust me, I'm damn ready." She reclined the lounge chair all the way flat. She spread her legs enough that so that both her feet were resting on the concrete on either side of the lounger. I knelt between her legs and then stretched out over her naked body. My cock was hard enough that I didn't need use my hands to guide it into her. Once the tip found her hole, I simply shifted my weight and it slid partially in. "OH GOD, YES," Maureen moaned. At first I moved my cock gently and slowly, concerned that she might not be wet enough. But Maureen's pussy was dripping wet with her fluids within just a few seconds. Damn, I thought, no wonder ol' Hal hadn't believed in wasting time. I began taking deeper, longer, quicker strokes. "Yes! It has been way too long. Fuck me!" Maureen gasped. Soon we were both grunting and moaning loudly. Our genitals were making loud squishing noises with each stroke. "I hope none of the neighbors can hear us," I said. "Who cares if they can. We're adults," Maureen replied. "What are they going to do, tell your wife?" When I slammed my shaft in her to the hilt, I could feel the cool wetness her external labial folds slap up against my balls. It was a really nice sensation I hadn't experienced before. I stopped for a moment to reach down with my fingers to explore her fleshy lips. Maureen smiled with pleasure and reached down to diddle her own clit as I resumed fucking her. Just about the time I had concluded that Evie had the smaller, tighter, more muscular cunt, and was busy wondering if that was because she was younger or because she worked out regularly, Maureen suddenly let out three quick, high-pitched moans. Before I knew what was happening, her inner walls clamped down on me and her whole body shuttered with a magnificent orgasm. What had been a soft, warm smooth tunnel turned into a pulsating, undulating collar, rhythmically clamping down on my dick with a surprising force that threatened to push it push out completely with every spasm. I countered by simply shoving my cock in as deeply as I could and holding myself there. This was exactly what Maureen needed me to do, and she continued to orgasm violently for nearly thirty seconds, violently moving her clit in frantic circles as she bucked and moaned under me. The sensation was exquisite for me, and very unlike when Evie came. As her contractions sputtered away, I began taking deep hard strokes again. She lifted her hips up off the lounger and rotated her torso up towards me. She began slamming her pussy against my cock, meeting me thrust for thrust. We were both chanting "Oh, oh, oh..." in unison. I could feel the cum rising in my shaft now. I was not quite to the point where my orgasm was inevitable when Maureen came again. Once her forceful inner muscles clamped down on manhood again, I could take no more. I kept humping her as hard as I could as streams of cum shot inside of her. Maureen was able to draw out her orgasm for a couple of seconds longer, until we both collapsed in a sweat-drenched, overheated, cum-soaked heap. "Thank you," Maureen cooed contentedly. "Thank you so, so much." She reached up and pulled my face to hers. We shared a few seconds of deep, open mouth french kisses. It occurred to me then that we hadn't kissed at all until after we had cum together. These were not erotic kisses, they were the soul kisses of two people who had just realized how deeply they cared for one another, how how deeply connected they had become through what they'd just shared. It was several minutes before I could find the strength to climb off her and find a chair. We eventually went inside for some well-earned nutrition, eating pastrami and swiss sandwiches in the nude at the kitchen table. The following couple of hours were spent sitting on the steps in the pool, half submerged in the water and caressing each other. Maureen was more than happy to indulge my constant desire to lick, suck, fondle, bite and simply stare at her tits. Two-thirty PM found me lying on my back on the concrete patio, with Maureen sitting on my pelvis, cowgirl style. She was dangling her tits in my face and shaking them while I pawed at them and pinched her nipples. I was thinking that my cock might have recharged enough to fuck her again when we heard the gate open and click shut. I looked over to see Evie walking towards us, her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess things have gone according to plan here!" "You might say that," I offered. "How did things go on your end?" Maureen and I stood up and returned to our chairs. "Oh my god," she said, pulling up a chair. "That was the most erotic single encounter of my entire life! As soon as I tell them I'll do it, this guy drops his pants, right there in the great room. His wife strips naked, gets on her knees, and starts going down on him. If somebody else were to come in, we'd have been plainly visible as soon as they walked in the front door. But frankly, I don't care; at this point, I'm so horny I'm starting to involuntarily hump the air. I can't get skirt and blazer off fast enough. I lean up against the wall in just my bra and my pumps, I spread my legs apart and I go to town. I'm just watching this guy stare at me while I masturbate for him." "I had no idea you had such an exhibitionistic streak, Evie!" I said in surprise. "I didn't know, either! But it was majorly hot to be so...so...on display! Oooh!" Evie stopped talking, lifted her skirt, cupped her hand and pressed it against her pussy. She'd never before exposed herself to Maureen, but since were both nude, it didn't seem inappropriate. "Let me take a deep breath and get her under control." See held her hand there for several seconds, then withdrew it. "My, my. I guess I'm still worked up. Anyway, back to my story: I'm rubbing my clit, fingering my slit, and before long I'm on the carpet in the middle of an empty room, three fingers in me as far as they'll go. I'm rubbing my my g-spot inside with one hand and my clit on the outside with the other, and I start cumming SO HARD. The guy moaned and blew his wad over his wife's chest, but I didn't want to stop. After a while, the wife is like, getting up and getting dressed, but I just want to keep cumming. I must have had seven or eight orgasms. Even now, my pussy is still, like, electric. It's buzzing." "Sounds amazing," Maureen said. "It was, but now I desperately need to get fucked. I wanted to let that guy fuck me so bad, and I couldn't; my pussy is, like, crying out for cock. David, I need you to pound me hard." "You don't have to ask me twice," I said. I stood up in front of Evie's chair. "Do you mind if we do this here?" Evie asked Maureen. Maureen scoffed. "Are you kidding? I've been fuckin' around with your husband all afternoon. I doubt I'll be traumatized watching him fuck his own wife." Evie moaned as she took my dick into her mouth, and I moaned too. My wife does give the best head. It didn't take long for me to grow to full length. Evie stood up. I turned the chair around so she'd have something to hang on to and bent her over at the waist. "What's that, Real Estate Lady?" I said in a mock tone as I pulled her skirt up over her ass. "You're wearing that little skirt without any underwear? You must be the kind of girl who's willing to let guys just walk up to you and fuck you from behind!" "Yes, I am!" Evie said breathlessly. Up until that day, I'd had no idea that she got so turned on playing the slut. She bent over as far as she could, giving me easy access to her pussy from the rear. I slipped my stiff rod between her moist lips. She was as wet and tight and hot as I had ever experienced. A moment later I was giving her the good, hard strokes she had asked for. "Wait! Wait!" Evie called out. "I want to do what you suggested on the phone. I want to lick Maureen's pussy while you fuck me." "Sounds like a hell of a deal for me!" Maureen exclaimed. Maureen sat down at the side of the pool at about the 3-1/2 feet mark. She laid back on the concrete, so that her legs were in the water and her pussy was at the edge of the pool. Evie stripped nude, got in the water, and positioned herself between Maureen's legs. "I've never done this before," Evie said. "Neither have I," said Maureen. "Hal would never agree go down on me, so I've never had my pussy licked by anybody, male or female. We'll just learn as we go." Evie leaned forward and buried her face in Maureen's pussy. She must be a natural cunt licker, because Maureen began moaning almost immediately. I joined Evie in the pool. Her pussy was just above the surface of the water, and it looked incredibly inviting. I slid back into her from behind and was again impressed on just how tight and strong her pussy was. Evie was so turned on that she started cumming almost immediately. I had just cum a few hours earlier, so I was able to last long enough satisfy Evie's need for a good, thorough pounding. By the time I was ready to come, Evie had figured out how to get Maureen off with her tongue, and Evie had climaxed several additional times herself. "I think I'm gonna come!" I said. "Maureen, could you get in the pool? You have no idea how long I've fantasized about cumming all over your tits." Maureen slid into the water and knelt down beside me. Maureen began tugging on her her nipples, which were right at the water's surface. I had no idea if she was doing it for her pleasure or to pleasure me, but I looked down at those miraculous tits as I fucked my wife's tight hole and considered what a lucky man I was. At the very last minute, I pulled out and shot white spurts of cum onto Maureen's sexy chest for the first time. It was just as beautiful as I'd imagined. The Widow Next Door She wasn't exactly the girl next door. When I left for college, never to return, an elderly couple lived in the house. They moved to a new home and rented the house out. On one of my visits back home, I was introduced to Cheryl. She was living in the house next door with her four children. Her husband had died, and she was now a single parent. My brother talked about what a devoted church lady Cheryl was. I was married and was faithful, but I was aware that this tall, slender, well-developed, raven haired lady was a true beauty. We chatted briefly, and I excused myself. My visits home always seemed to involve my going to visit all the family members even after my long trip back home. My life would have been so much easier if I could have just visited my parents and had everyone come see me, but my family members didn't see it that way and got their feelings hurt if I didn't come see them. I didn't see Cheryl again for years. Moving forward in time, I went back home to see my mother who was in the hospital. I was getting ready for a four hour trip back home, and I went down to the hospital cafeteria to get a cup of coffee to help me stay awake. The cashier struck me as a lovely lady. I was the only customer, so we chatted freely. Her black hair, not one strand out of place, was so accentuated by the white hospital uniform that even she had to wear. As we talked, she asked, "Who did you come to visit?" When the conversation got involved, she called my brother's name and made the connection. She was still unattached, and my wife and I were separated, divorce pending. We began to date, but sometimes she'd cancel at the last minute, sometimes after I had driven four hours to see her. Finally we stopped dating at all. A couple of years later, I called her, and she agreed to meet me halfway, just to talk. We met at a McDonald's. It was not a place conducive for a lot of serious conversation, and due to a back injury, I was having trouble with the seats. I asked if she would mind if we got a room at a nearby motel but that I didn't expect her to have sex with me. I was surprised when she agreed. In the room, I lay one the bed, and she sat in a chair beside the window. After a while, she said, "I'm going to lie beside you, but lying is all we're going to do." Talking led to kissing, and kissing led to some heavy petting. My hands ended up all over her breasts, and I ended up unhooking her bra. She called a stop to the action before it got any more serious and lay on her back with her bra still unhooked.. I made a comment about her having great breasts. She lifted the top of her blouse and looked down the blouse and said, "They're not bad, I guess." I said, "Wait a minute. Do that again and let me see." I honestly didn't expect her to do it, but to my surprise, she lifted both her blouse and her bra and gave me a very memorable view of her breasts, larger than her frame called for, but not oversized. They were still firm and luscious. I only hated that I was seeing them with her lying on her back. After we talked for a while longer, she indicated that she had to go back. She sat up on the bed and lifted the back of her blouse for me to rehook her bra. With great reluctance, I complied. We dated a couple more times, and the second time, I was staying in a motel. After dinner, we swung by the motel and engaged in kissing and heavy petting again. This time, I got the bra off. Having done so, I began to slip out of my clothes while we continued kissing. Soon, I was totally naked. She was topless. I put her hand on my throbbing penis, and she squeezed it and looked down at it. She turned toward me and said, "I'm going to the bathroom. If you'll turn out the lights, I'll let you put it in." I turned out all the lights except for the TV, but I killed the sound on it. She came out of the bathroom totally naked and slipped under the sheet. Although slightly heavier than when I first met her, she was not by any means overweight, just more fully developed. She was a vision of loveliness, a tall Amazon with raven hair on her head and her pussy. We resumed kissing, and then I moved my head between her legs and gave her an orgasm with my mouth and fingers. The night ended with both of us satisfied and with my juices inside her. She looked around the room and asked if that was what I called dark. I replied, "Yeah, because I wanted to see what I've waited all these years to get." She laughed. After that, sex became a normal part of our time together. One time she came to Georgia to spend the weekend with me. I was renting a room to an elderly gentleman, and I thought Cheryl's natural love for talk was going to last all night. Finally in the bedroom, we did what came natural. When I reached for her panties, she lifted her shapely hips off the bed to help me. I took them and wadded them up. Then I tossed them up toward the ceiling fan. We exhausted ourselves with passion. The next morning, I woke up and looked over at the beautiful naked lady in bed with me. I reached between her legs and began to rub her clit very gently. As she slowly began to be roused from sleep, she was also aroused sexually. She was becoming wet and began to move her hips in order to increase the pleasure. After she climaxed, I entered her from behind. After a few minutes, I rolled her onto her back and got between her incredibly long legs. With her feet flat on the mattress but pulled up to her hips, she spread her legs for me to enter her. As always, she lay with her eyes closed during sex. The night before was more finesse and tenderness. This morning it was just raw sex, animal urgings. As I climaxed into her willing womanhood, I pushed as deeply into her as possible, as I always did. The, rolling left, I collapsed beside her. It was then that we both noticed her panties. As I tossed them toward the ceiling fan the night before, they had caught. They had spent the entire night spinning around on the fan. We both began to laugh. I rose up and took a quick shower. She showered while I was getting dressed. The image of her stepping from the shower dripping wet but totally naked almost made me pause and go for round three. With a quick kiss, I went into the kitchen to start coffee. Before coffee was ready, my renter came into the kitchen, and we talked a bit about Cheryl. I told him about meeting her and then rediscovering her. Finally Cheryl walked out of the bedroom. Except when she was naked, I never saw Cheryl looking like anything but a model. She had never worked a high paying job, but yet worked to supplement her social security income as a surviving widow and the mother of four children. Yet, she clothed her children well, and as for her...I never saw her with a hair out of place. I never saw her in clothes that were faded, picked, or worn. And she was always coordinated and well accessorized. That ability to present herself, along with her extremely long, slender legs and tall frame did, indeed, make her look like a model as she walked into the kitchen. In spite of her reputation as a very conservative, religious person, she came out of my bedroom still carrying my juices inside her body without any indication of shame and embarrassment. Her attitude and lack of shame over two screwings over the last eight hours would have been more appropriate for a married couple celebrating their fifth anniversary. When we went to the jewelry store I pointed out a wedding set I had selected after hours of searching and comparing. I would have loved to buy her the Hope diamond, but as a divorcee and former single parent, I was still recovering from the years of fiscal challenge. Whatever I bought had to be within both the limit still remaining on my credit card and also what I felt like I could pay monthly. In fact, I wanted to wait until summer to marry, in order to get some of my credit cards paid off. I had gotten a significant raise by taking an executive position, but it would still take time to dig out from under the debt I had incurred. Cheryl, however, told me that she would be working and that she had always worked. She said that if I was putting the wedding off to get my finances in order, there was no reason to do so. My father, through hard work and much sacrifice, had made himself modestly wealthy, but even his money was tied up in cattle and land. When I was picking out the ring, I would have loved to have had those kinds of resources. Yet, I showed Cheryl the rings I had picked out. She asked the salesman to show her another set nearby. I cringed because that set was $3,500 more. After trying both on, she said, "I'm going to be working...I've always worked. And I'll be helping pay for it. You know that I like jewelry." It was true, she did. At that moment of weakness, there were two factors against me. One was that I was indeed in love. The other was that this statuesque woman who had a reputation for keeping her legs together was giving me some of the best sex I'd ever had. Whether it was the heart or the penis, I gave in and presented the credit card for the more expensive set. There were three other times that the sex was incredibly memorable. One was the night before we married. We lay in bed, and I began kissing her. She said, "You know, we're getting married tomorrow, so we can't do anything tonight." Shocked and terribly disappointed, I reached my hand over to her ample breast and said, "So that means I can't do this." "No." Yet she gave no resistance. "So, I also can't do this?" I ran my hand down her firm body and cupped her mound, my fingers extending deep between her thighs, almost to her hips. "No," she uttered without showing any sign of resistance or objection. "We can't do that either." I wasn't sure if she was serious or was teasing me, so I sat up in bed, raised her up, and pulled her gown over her head, leaving her naked except for her French cut panties. "So I can't do this either?" "No, we can't do that either," she mocked. "So I guess that means that I can't reach down and pull your panties down?" Without waiting for her to respond, I put four fingers into the elastic waistband of her sexy panties and began to pull. In spite of her protests, she lifted her hips off the bed to facilitate the removal of her one remaining garment. From that moment on, it was a game. "I guess I also can't do this to your nipples, I guess I can't lick you here, I guess I can't put my finger in here." Finally, after she was extremely wet and the waves of orgasm had made her whole body shudder, I said, "Well, I guess I REALLY can't do this," as I slipped my penis into her waiting womanhood. Not only did I pound her harder than ever before, but she seemed to respond a little more physically than ever before. Finally, with both of us fully drenched in perspiration, we lay beside each other recovering out breath from the pre-wedding night fuck. The night of our wedding was also remarkable but more for what happened after we got naked more than what happened in bed. I learned that, even in a bridal suite, it is never a good idea to put bubble bath into a Jacuzzi. We ended up hidden in a mound of soap bubbles that was growing to the size of the iceberg that sank the Titanic. The other most memorable sexual experience was back in her house in Alabama in her big four-poster bed. We were already engaged in sex. She was on her back with those long legs of hers in the air. Her luscious boobs were rocking with each thrust. Suddenly, the bed collapsed. The wooden strip attached to the side rail had broken, sending the lower corner of her side of the bed to the floor. Undaunted, we continued until my juices were firmly planted within her. Although I owned the house where I rented out a room, I also had an apartment in another part of the state. That's where my work had taken me. Cheryl moved down with me. However, she only worked one day and quit without notice. She also began to go back home to Alabama every weekend. For many of these trips, she wanted to leave early, and that precluded my going with her. The crushing blow came when we went back to Alabama for a Christmas visit with family. She wanted to go visit the family of her deceased husband. I had no objections at all and told her that we'd both go. She flatly refused and said that she wouldn't be comfortable with me going. I should have told her that if she was going, I was also going, but I was so stunned that I didn't think very fast. However, that matter, along with her frequent trips back to Alabama made me doubt her faithfulness, even more, her sincerity. Finally, I put a recording device on my phone while she was out shopping. Adding to the suspicion was the fact that Cheryl had told me about getting involved with a man at work when she and her first husband were married. She said that it never went beyond kissing in the parking lot after work, but the image certainly shattered the concept I had of me being the only one ever to sweep her off her feet. She had also told me about going to dinner with a man who was a police officer. She said that after dinner, they went to his place, and with one thing leading to another, they ended up in bed. Cheryl told me that the episode with the police officer was the only time she was ever with a man sexually after her husband died. I had believed her because I wanted to. Yet, after the matter of her not wanting me to accompany her to visit her dead husband's relatives, my suspicions had grown. When I got a chance to play the recording, I heard a man's voice ON MY PHONE calling long distance. He spoke with a dispatcher at his company and told the dispatcher his location. The dispatcher expressed surprise and said, "I didn't know you made those long trips anymore." His reply was, "I requested this one." When I told Cheryl that one of the nearby workers had seen a man at the apartment, she denied it and said they were either confused or lying. That night, we went to bed, and for the first time ever, we spent the night without having sex. Every time she would slide over against me, I'd inch farther away. I told her that I knew she wasn't happy and that if she wanted to move back home, I'd do everything I could to help her in the process. When I came home the next day, she had removed all of her things from my apartment. She had also taken what of mine she wanted. Since both the house and the apartment were fully furnished, I had no need to pack. I grabbed the recorder I had placed on the phone line, jumped into my car, and headed north. Periodically, I would stop to call the house and also the guy who rented the room from me. With no answer, I continued driving. After about two hours, I was halfway to the house. My renter answered. He told me that Cheryl was there with her daughter, and that they were loading up all kinds of things into her car. He said that he had not tried to stop her, as he had no legal right to do so. I called one of my staff members and told him what was happening. I advised him that I would not be in the next morning and for the staff to continue without me. When I arrived at the house, Cheryl was gone. My renter told me that she planned to come back in "a day or two" and get the rest of her things. Since sleep was out of the question, I played the recordings from my phone. Although she had told me that she planned to work, I found that she had told her daughter that she wasn't going to. She also told her daughter that she was going to take anything out of the house that she wanted. The house had been fully furnished when we married. My two-car garage was filled with her furniture and belongings. Her plan was to take her things back and to take whatever else she wanted. Fearing the loss of everything I had accumulated, I moved quickly. I rented a storage building and single-handedly, loaded every item she owned into a truck I borrowed from my renter. With repeated trips, I got the last of her things stored. I went to an attorney and secured his services. I gave him a key to the storage unit and said that she could have everything provided that she sign an agreement NOT to take anything out of the house. Then I went to the computer and prepared a note for the door advising "To any deputy or other officer of the court: This house and its contents are under the protection of a court order. Under this injunction, no items can be removed by either party without order of the court." It was a lie, but it was the only thing I could think of that would protect my belongings from this woman I now realized I could not trust. My sweet little church-going girl was a whore, a liar, a thief, and probably an adulterer. I didn't take her actions as an indictment against church-going ladies in general, but I certainly took her actions as indictments against her character. From the beginning, she had used what was between her legs to manipulate me because she thought I had the same kind of money my dad did. When she realized that was not the case, she bailed. In my anger, I sought out the last lady I had dated, and although she was furious at me for having married someone else, we went to bed together that afternoon. I didn't feel like I was cheating; I felt like I was getting some well-deserved revenge. That weekend, I drove toward the house after taking a load of Cheryl's things to the storage unit. I was shocked to find a moving truck in my drive, along with a deputy's car. I did not stop at the house but drove on past it. After they left, I went to the house. My ruse had worked. The deputy refused to assist Cheryl in taking anything out of the house, and she returned to Alabama empty-handed. The matter of the wedding rings continued to bother me. I had spent $3,500 above what I felt like I could afford, and I wanted to take the rings back and see if I could recover the $3,500 and simply lose the rest of what I had paid. I just wanted to get the debt off me. There was no negotiation. She had the rings, and she was keeping them. Cheryl thought she had the last laugh. When she picked up the divorce papers, she got the key from my attorney, just to check and make sure everything was okay, and cleared out the storage unit. Her adding of insult to injury was to steal the lock that was on the storage unit. However, even before she signed the divorce papers, I had removed her from my health insurance to save the money. After the papers were signed and the divorce was final, I got a bill. While Cheryl and I were still married, Cheryl had fallen down some steps, breaking a leg. She had the hospital to bill me, expecting my insurance to pay it. I was afraid that I was legally required to pay the bill since we were still married at the time of the accident and since she wasn't working. I checked with my attorney, and upon his advice, I sent the bill back with these words written on it: "The party who signed her into the hospital is the person responsible for this debt." Ironically, the amount of the bill was exactly the same amount as the additional amount I had paid for the rings: $3,500. I guess her pain and suffering were the interest on the $3,500. I wouldn't have wished it on her, but I was reassured that karma has a way of bringing things home.