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Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 01

By: SusanJillParker



"We love lesbians!" Risking being caught, Susan and Crystal do one another.

Unable to control their sexual attraction and lustful desire for one another anymore, Susan and Crystal snuck away from the bridal shower to play in the spare bedroom. With most of the women already gone and the others leaving, Julie, the soon to be bride, was too busy saying good-bye to her friends to notice that her best friend, Susan, the maid of honor, and Crystal, one of the bridesmaids were missing. Surely, no one would notice them disappearing for a quickie behind a closed, spare bedroom door.

Only with Susan drunker than she thought she was and Crystal in the same inebriated condition, what started out as a quickie quickly turned into a full, lesbian, love making affair. With one helping to strip the other one naked while kissing, touching, and feeling each other's body, it was obvious that Crystal was more into Susan than Susan was into Crystal. Nonetheless her reluctance to have a lesbian affair, Susan was horny enough to allow Crystal access to her naked body.

It all started with both woman sitting in Julie's living room across from one another for hours. With one too many boring women talking at the same time, they started making eyes at one another while licking their lips long and slow. Sexually teasing one another while flashing each other their panties in slow, seductive leg crosses, Susan was as horny as she was drunk. Not lesbian, not even bi-sexual, Crystal was just a distraction for Susan. Only, what started out as a tease, a touch, a grope, and a long, wet kiss in the kitchen quickly escalated and developed into sexually passion and so much more.

Crystal was the type of woman who always got her own way. Crystal was the type of woman who got what she wanted. Crystal was the type of woman who hated to be disappointed and/or rejected. Crystal didn't take well to teasing and then left unattended to be sexually frustrated. If Crystal started something sexual, she expected to be rewarded for her efforts. She expected to be given and to have an orgasm.

Even though Susan only had one brief lesbian affair with her roommate after being high on Marijuana and when away at college, she knew that whatever she started with Crystal, her redheaded diva of a friend, she had to finish. Just as, no doubt, Crystal would be licking and fingering her blonde, trimmed pussy, Susan was compelled to return the sexual favor. Drunk enough and horny enough to do whatever her friend wanted and needed her to do, what Susan wanted was just a sexual release.

"Oh my God, Crystal. I can't believe we're really doing this."

"A long time coming, Susan. I've always wanted to do you."

Kissing her while unbuttoning her blouse and unhooking her bra, not even taking the time that a guy would take to have extended foreplay before wanting to receive his prerequisite blowjob, Crystal stripped off Susan's blouse and bra to get at her huge double D tits.

"Maybe we shouldn't remove all of our clothes Crystal. Someone might come. What if we just removed our panties and you licked and fingered me and I licked and fingered you? Maybe we should just have a quickie sixty-nine," said Susan.

"Now that I finally have you alone Susan, I want all of you. I need to see, touch, feel, and suck your big tits," said Crystal stripping Susan topless as if she was the man and Susan was the woman.

Susan removed Crystal's top and bra before they each removed their skirts and panties. With each of them only wearing four articles of clothes, not counting their shoes, they were both naked in just a minute. Knowing that she better not disappoint her friend, Susan went down on Crystal first. Falling between her legs, as soon as they fell back on the bed, Susan fingered and licked her friend.

Perhaps because of all the pent up lust she had for Susan, it didn't take Crystal very long to have an orgasm from her friend's fingers and tongue. Glad that part of their affair was over, Susan scooted up on the bed and spread her legs wide for Crystal to have her wicked way with her body. Crystal wasted no time in getting comfortable between Susan's long legs. Fingering her clit, she licked her pussy before finger fucking her hole. She had Susan squirming in no time.

"I love your blonde, trimmed pussy Susan. I love rubbing your clit while licking you before finger fucking you as I play with your giant breasts and finger your hard nipples," said Crystal. "Can you tell that I like talking dirty in bed?"

"I like pillow talk too," said Susan. "Not shut the fuck up and lick my pussy bitch," she said with a laugh that made Crystal laugh too.

Without doubt, Crystal knew her way around a pussy and Susan had an orgasm loud enough to disturb the hostess of the house. Both women fell on their backs and covered their nakedness with the sheet while kissing, feeling, and touching one another. Julie threw open the spare bedroom door as if she was SWAT breaking up a drug ring.

"What the fuck are you two doing? Are you two nuts? What are you drunk? I know you're not lesbian Susan, so what's your excuse?" She looked from Susan to direct her tongue lashing to Crystal. "You're like a dog in heat Crystal. You'd do anyone and anything that has a pulse," said Julie. "It's time for both of you to leave my house before my father finds you in bed together. I'm so very disappointed in you Susan," she said giving her best friend an angry look.

"We just got comfortable," said Crystal snuggling up against Susan's big breasts and sucking on her erect nipple. "We not ready to go yet," she said giving Susan another long, wet kiss while feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples.

"Eww. Gross. You're disgusting Crystal," said Julie slamming shut the bedroom door.

* * * * *

Dave, Marty, Doug, and Wayne sat off in the corner of the backyard playing cards and drinking beer as Randy's daughter, Julie, emerged from the house. Slamming shut the back door, she appeared terribly upset.

"Are you okay Julie?" Randy got up from the table to walk over to his 30-year-old daughter that he still thought of as his little girl.

With all eyes upon Julie, all four of his friends had often declared their desire to do Randy's daughter one time or another, especially when they were drinking in the way they were now. Tall and shapely, just like her mother, Julie was a good looking woman. Only, Julie knew enough never to be alone with any of his friends. All of his friends were perverts. Moreover, if only merely judging her father by the company he kept, she knew her Dad was a pervert too. Going along with the flow when drinking and drunk, even Randy confessed to his friends that he'd love to do his daughter too. Only, she was engaged to be married and the wedding was just a couple of months away.

He had given up hope of incestuously bedding his daughter long ago. The only sexual memory he had of his sexy daughter was seeing her sunbathing topless in the backyard by the pool and catching her naked once when she accidentally dropped her towel when brushing her hair and talking on the cell phone. Having lived with her since she graduated college, he had also had dozens of up skirts of her panties and down blouses of her bra while she relaxed in the living room. Oblivious to the stares of her father's horny, incestuous eyes, she had inadvertently given her father plenty to think about while masturbating over the incestuous thoughts of having sex with her.

Feeling embarrassed about his inappropriate behavior now, he thought of all the times he walked around the house in his underwear or naked while pretending he was drunk but his daughter never took his dangling bait. Even though he wanted her to cross the incestuous line with him, not once did she reach out and touch him before stroking him. Hoping she'd fall to her knees and suck him before fucking him, she didn't even look at his exposed cock. Instead, she'd just put him to bed and cover his nakedness with a sheet.

"Thank you for allowing me the use of your house Daddy for my bridal shower," she said beginning to cry.

"What's the matter Julie?" He held her in his arms while his four friends watched from the distance. Perhaps his attraction to his daughter was because she reminded him so much of her mother when she was her age. "Are you nervous about the wedding? Are you having second thoughts? That happens to everyone. Everyone gets cold feet," he said reassuring her with a fatherly rub of her shoulders. "Don't worry. Everything will be okay."

"No, that's not it Daddy," she said looking at him with foreboding.

"What is it then Honey? Tell me. You can tell Daddy anything. Just as I've always done for you in the past, Daddy will make everything better," he said.

He remembered when he paid for her to have an abortion, paid for her to have substance abuse rehab treatment, bought her a car, repaired the car after she crashed it, paid for her college and her excessive cell phone charges and everything else in between.

"Susan, my maid of honor or more correctly, my maid of dishonor, and Crystal, my slut of a bridesmaid are upstairs in the guest bedroom," she said looking at her father with awkwardness before blurting out her predicament. "They're drunk Daddy and..." she said with her look of embarrassment that quickly turned to humiliation.

The thought of Susan and Crystal drunk and upstairs in his house, especially Susan, made his cock throb in his pants.

"And what?"

Already excited over the fact that there were two, young, beautiful, drunken women in his guest bedroom, Randy gave his daughter a fatherly look of understanding. Instead of having to deal with more of Julie's issues, he just wanted to run upstairs to see what Susan and Crystal were doing upstairs in his guest bedroom. 

"They're naked Daddy. They're in bed in the guest bedroom and they're naked," said Julie starting to cry.

The image of Susan and Crystal naked filled Randy's horny brain with sexual lust. Naked, naked, naked, there's young naked women in his house. Naked, naked, naked, his beloved Susan the woman he's been infatuated with ever since she turned 18-years-old and developed huge breasts, was in his house and upstairs in his guest bedroom naked. No longer able to focus on his daughter, he just wished she'd leave so that he could deal with her two naked friends.

Having already seen Crystal topless, he always wanted to see Susan naked. Over the years, Crystal was always flashing him her panties with up skirts and her bra with down blouses. She was a slut but Susan was a nice woman. She'd be the type of woman that if he was rich, he'd ask her to marry him. Only, his daughter wouldn't take well to her father marrying her best friend.

"Naked? Seriously?" He looked at his daughter while trying not to show his sexual excitement. "They're both in the bed in the guest bedroom naked?"

"Yes Daddy."

"There, there, don't cry," he said hugging her while comforting his daughter.

"I'm sorry Daddy."

The image of Susan and Crystal naked in his house took hold of his mind and he couldn't think of anything else but Susan's double D size breasts, her round, firm ass, and, no doubt, being that she was a natural blonde, her blonde pussy. Guessing she was trimmed, he wondered if she was bushy, bald, or trimmed. The imagined image of her melon size breasts that he finally pictured in his mind's eye after seeing her long line of cleavage so many times before filled his mind with lust for her. Already suspecting the answer to his question, he asked anyway.

"Why are they naked?"

She looked at him with trepidation.

"I'm sorry Daddy, I'm so sorry, truly I am but..." she said.

"But what Julie. Tell me. Don't be afraid. I'm your father and I love you. You can tell me anything and I'll--"

"I think they just had sex," said Julie.

"Pardon? I'm sorry. I'm getting old and don't always hear correctly," he said figuring that what he heard his daughter saying was what he wanted to hear his daughter say.

"They just had sex Daddy," she said again.

"Sex? Susan and Crystal had sex...in my spare bedroom?"

Randy imagined Susan's long legs draped over Crystal's back while her best friend licked her pussy. The image of the two women having naked lesbian sex filled him with passion for both women.

"Yes," said Julie with embarrassment.

"Sex with who?" Wanting just to hear her say the words and playing Mickey the Dunce while knowing full well that Susan and Crystal must have had sex with one another for his daughter to be so upset, he knew the answer to his question when Julie shot him a sneer. Hoping that she'd tell him all of the lurid details but unable to get her to play his game, he asked the question to show his naiveté for such things. "They had sex with one another?

"Yes Daddy," she said with shame. "They had sex with one another."

"Lesbian sex? They had lesbian sex?"

"Yes," she said hiding her face in her hands. "Only we don't call it having lesbian sex," she said looking up at him and blushing to suggest that she's had lesbian sex too. "We call it taking a walk on the wild side or experimenting. Some women have sex with a close female friend after they've been dumped by a man, get drunk or high, and are horny," she said brushing back her hair as if she was giving her reasons why she's had lesbian sex in the past without admitting that she had.

"So, just so that I understand, lemme get this straight. You're childhood friends are lesbians?"

"Apparently so Daddy for them to be upstairs in your house and in your guest bedroom having sex," she said talking to him as if he was stupid. "Besides, we're not children anymore Daddy. We're all 30-year-old women," said Julie.

Even though she said she was a 30-year-old woman, he wondered why she still called him Daddy instead of Dad or Father in the way that all of her friends addressed their fathers. He wondered if what happened with her mother leaving stunted her maturity. Just as he wondered if his daughter's immaturity was his fault, he wondered if his wife leaving him was his fault too. Most women her age don't get along with their fathers but because of his wife leaving him for the Avon woman years ago, he always had a close relationship with his daughter.

As if there was a big bug in her room and she needed him to save her from being bitten, he'd do anything for her. Even if it meant him going upstairs to see what the Hell was going on in his spare bedroom, he'd sacrifice himself for Julie's sake anything, especially when it had the reward of possibly seeing Susan naked. Naked, naked, naked, yes, of course, he'd force himself to deal with two naked, young, beautiful women in his house. It's the least that he can do for his daughter. What horny, perverted father wouldn't?

"Yes, yes, of course I realize you're all adults, which is why I don't understand why your two best friends had lesbian sex in my house Julie. You know how I feel about lesbians, especially after your mother left me for the Avon lady. I was the butt of jokes, fodder for teasing, and the laughing stock of all my friends and family. Wouldn't lesbian sex be something they'd do in private or in their own closet instead of doing it in public and in my guest bedroom?"

"Other than both of them being drunk, I don't know what their problems are Daddy," said Julie.

Not expecting her to answer, he looked at her as if she was still his little girl. He only wished she was up there drunk and naked with Susan. Wow! How hot would that be if he could have incestuous sex with his daughter and lustful sex with her best friend.

"I still think of you and your friends as kids who played in this very backyard every day," he said looking over to his four friends and giving them the thumbs up behind his daughter's back. 

"Routinely inviting the Avon lady over, on the pretense of always needing to buy more makeup and perfume while Mom carried on an affair with Tiffany, I know how you detest lesbians Daddy. I'm so very sorry that lesbianism comes knocking at your door again. I had no idea they were lesbians, bisexuals, or whatever the Hell they were doing in the guest bedroom," said Julie wringing her hands. "I asked them to come down, but they wouldn't. I asked to leave, but they won't."

"So what's the problem?"

As soon as he blurted that stupid question, he felt so obviously transparent. A father would never ask his daughter that question, unless he felt that Susan and Crystal being in his spare bedroom naked wasn't a problem and it wasn't. It was a blessing. As far as he was concerned, having Susan and Crystal in his house drunk and naked was divine intervention. A wish he had been asking God to grant him for years in wanting to see Susan naked and now his prayers have been answered.

'Thank you Jesus', he thought to himself. 'Thank you Jesus!'

"The problem is that I can't get them to come down Daddy. I can't get them to leave. They're too drunk. They just keep kissing and touching one another. Eww, gross," she said. "I don't know how they're going to drive home in that condition," she said with a face full of consternation.

"Don't worry about them driving home. I'll let them sleep it off and I'll give them breakfast tomorrow morning before kicking them to the curb," he said with a laugh to cover his ulterior motives. "I'll make sure they get home safe. Don't you worry your pretty head about anything," he said kissing her on her forehead. "You go home. Drive carefully," he said.

"Thank you Daddy," she said giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Bye Daddy."

"Bye, Julie. Take care," he said waving until she drove out of sight. "Hot diggity dog," he said stomping his foot.

Always there to clean up his daughter's messes, he was always helping her out of jams. Glad that she was finally getting married and going to be her husband's problem, nonetheless, this was one mess that he looked forward to fixing. Randy walked over to his four friends with a big smile.

"What's up?" Dave looked at Randy. "I bet you're glad they're all gone. Is that why you're smiling?"

"No, that's not why I'm smiling and, actually, they're not all gone," he said rubbing his hands together as if he had just won the lottery.

"What do you mean they're not all gone?" Marty looked from Dave to Randy. "Who's left?"

"Two of my daughter friends, Susan and Crystal, are still here in my spare bedroom...drunk and naked."

"Drunk and naked?" Dave looked at Randy with immediate sexual excitement.

"Yep, I have two drunken, young, beautiful women in my spare bedroom naked," said Randy.

"Wait," said Marty with a look of hopefulness. "Is Susan the tall, beautiful, blonde with the big tits?" 

"Oh yeah, she's the one," said Randy with a chuckle while grabbing his crotch. "I always wanted to do her. You guys can have Crystal but Susan is all mine."

"Is Crystal the pretty redhead with the nice, tight ass?" Doug looked to Randy with a look of excited expectancy. 

"That's the one," said Randy. "She's the one who was swimming topless in the pool just before you guys arrived."

"No way," said Wayne. "Topless? In front of you?"

"It gets better," said Randy smiling at his three friends. "They just had sex."

"Who just had sex?" Marty stared at Randy with his mouth open.

"Susan and Crystal just had sex with one another," said Randy.

"Lesbian sex?" Marty looked from Randy to look at his two friends. "Are you serious? Those two hot women just had lesbian sex? I never would have pegged them for lesbians."

"Yes," said Randy chuckling. "Moreover, Julie thinks that I don't like lesbians but I love lesbians," he said with a laugh. "We all love lesbians. All men love lesbians," said Randy with another laugh.

"What are you going to do?" Even after taking a long sip of his beer, Wayne looked at Randy as if he was a man dying of thirst.


Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 01



"I told Julie that I'd make sure they get home safe," he said looking from Wayne to look at Doug, Dave, and to Marty before giving them a wink, a thumbs up sign, and a high five. "Maybe we should go upstairs and check on them. Bring the bottle of Jack," said Randy with a laugh.

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 02



Crystal gets gangbanged while Susan is fucked hard and gets a cum bath.

*

As if they were five teenage boys on their way to their first sexual encounter, instead of being the fifty-something grown men they were, the five men were giddy with sexual excitement. Randy turned to his friends and put his finger to his lips for them to be quiet. With Randy leading the way, the five men went inside and quietly walked upstairs to the spare bedroom. 

"Knock, knock," said Randy opening the door to see Susan and Crystal in bed beneath a sheet. "Well, well. Surprise, surprise. What naughty things are you two girls doing?"

By the collection of clothes, pants, tops, bras, and panties strewn all over the floor, just as Julie had told him, Randy knew they were in bed naked. Two, young, good looking naked women in his house was a sight to behold and something that's hasn't happened to him since his ex-wife, Christine, made love in his house with the Avon lady, her lesbian lover, Tiffany. When seeing Susan in bed naked with her lesbian lover, it was at that very moment that Randy was happy that he was divorced from his ex-wife and free to make his surprised guests feel right at home.

Yet, nonetheless seeing Susan naked in his spare bedroom with just a thin sheet covering her nakedness, just as he wondered about his wife then, he wondered about Susan now. What makes a woman, one so beautiful want to have sex with another woman instead of a man? He wondered if she was really a lesbian or just a bisexual. Girls will be girls, maybe she was just experimenting and because she's drunk was only having a little fun.

"Hi," said Susan giggling. "We forgot this was your house Randy. Sorry. Actually, I was drunk enough to think that I was home," she said sitting up enough to allow the sheet to fall from her shoulders and to drape across the top of her breasts.

Precariously positioned, if only by the focused stares of the five men, they all wished that sheet would fall. As if a foil to add some sexual suspense to the serendipitous situation of the five men's sexual excitement, not that these five men needed any foil to add anymore sexual suspense and/or sexual excitement than what they already felt, no doubt, the sheet stayed in place held up only by Susan's big nipples. With her long line of cleavage and round, pink areolas fully exposed and with her making no move to cover her nakedness, ten horny eyes were focused upon her nearly naked breasts.

"I hope you don't mind," said Crystal looking from to Julie's father to Susan, "but we just had sex," she said laughing and making Susan laugh too.

Sexually irreverent and morally corrupt, without reaching for the sheet to cover her nakedness, Crystal sat up topless and when she did all ten eyes were upon her instead of Susan. Then, as if watching a porn film, the five men stared at Crystal leaning into Susan to French kiss her while reaching beneath the sheet to cup her big breast in her hand and to finger her erect nipple. The action of Crystal's errant hand on Susan's breast made the sheet fall their laps and all five men stared at Susan's exposed, big, beautiful breasts.

"I'm an open minded type of guy," said Randy. "I don't mind you having sex in my house," he said with a shrug and a big smile. "For all that I care, you can have sex again," he said with a dirty laugh, "that is, so long as we can all watch."

As if jogging her from her drunkenness and making her more aware of her dire predicament, Susan recoiled from his words.

"No. I don't think that would be a good idea for us to have sex in front of you and your four friends," said Susan looking from man to man before covering herself with the sheet again. "We really should be leaving," she said looking from Randy to look at his friends again. "If you don't mind, would you give us some privacy while we dress."

With all five men blocking the doorway, her only escape route, Susan looked from Randy to Dave to Marty to Doug and to Wayne with a sudden look of fear of her face.

"What's the rush? Relax Susan. Have a drink with us," said Randy unbuttoning his shirt and unbuckling and unzipping his pants. "With me getting more comfortable, as comfortable as you two are, the party is just starting."

Looking at all that he was exposing, Susan stared at Julie's father's cock in the way that he wished his daughter would stare at his exposed, erect prick but she never had. If only by the look on her face, after having licked a pussy, no doubt, she was hungry for a cock he imagined. Following his lead, Dave, Marty, Doug, and Wayne all began undressing too. All five men quickly stripped out of their clothes and with five exposed, erect cocks and two naked pussies, the odds were good that someone, if not all of them, were having sex, group sex, a gangbang.

"I'd do you," said Crystal with a sexy laugh and a point of her manicured index finger while slurring her words. "You're Julie's father. You're wicked cute, especially now that I see your big cock," she said staring at Randy's big prick while running a slow tongue across her lips. "I've always had a crush on you," she said kicking the sheet off to expose the rest of her naked body to the five men.

Susan struggled to keep the sheet from completely sliding from the bed to fall to the floor but a little too late in her reach, she was unable to preserve her modesty. Staring from Susan's exposed breasts before she covered herself with the sheet again, all five men stared at Crystal's naked body and at the evidence that she was a natural redhead. As if pulling the table cloth from a table, grabbing the sheet away from Susan in one quick, hard pull, Randy removed the sheet from her naked body to show his friends that Susan was a natural blonde. With both women now helplessly naked, a sexual fantasy come true for five, older men who always wanted to experience the sexual pleasure of being with a younger woman, they all just stared from Susan's to Crystal's naked bodies.

"So now what?" Sitting up straight and puffing out her exposed double D breasts, Susan looked at Julie's father and his four friends with naked defiance. "You want to fuck us? Is that it? You want us to suck you? Is that what you want? You want to cum in our mouths? You want to gangbang us?" She looked at them with as much anger as she looked at them with hatred. "Well c'mon. Let's get it over with then. We'll do all you assholes."

Only her drunken bluff failed to work in the way she, no doubt, had hoped it would. Obviously by the sexual lust they evidentially had for the two, naked, drunken women, sex overruled their commonsense and wanton desire removed their decency. Even though she lambasted them, her point didn't register with her intended targets and Susan was unable to shame them into thinking twice about what they were about to do.

"Wait. Hold on," said Randy turning to give a look of warning to his four friends who were ready to pounce on the two women. Normally a rational man of reason, other than the reason behind having sex with Susan, rational reason escaped him. "You girls are way ahead of us," he said taking Susan by her hand and leading her into the master bedroom where he had more room and a king sized bed. "Let's just take one step at a time," he said with a dirty laugh. "I'll take this one," he said putting and arm around Susan's slim waist and sliding his hand down to cup and gently squeeze her sweet ass. "And you all take that one," he said to his friends pointing to Crystal.

With her being the porn star of all of his sexual fantasies while he masturbated, from the time she was just 18-years-old, Randy has lusted over Susan for twelve, long, sexually frustrating years. With the opportunity given him to finally have her, he wasn't going to allow this chance to slip away. Kissing her while feeling her where no father should ever feel his daughter's best friend, Randy was all over Susan's big tits. Touching, feeling, and caressing her big boobs, he fingered and sucked her erect nipples before reaching his hand down cup and finger her blonde, trimmed pussy.

Allowing him to touch her, feel her, and kiss her, Susan returned his passion with hers by surrendering her tongue to him. Randy knew he was going to get lucky when she reached her hand down to fondle his cock, cup his testicles, and slowly stroke his prick to a stiff erection. Glad that he wasn't still married, he was glad that his wife was no longer around to voice her constant disapproval to what he did. He could only imagine what she'd say if she knew he was about to have sex with Susan, Julie's best friend.

"I love your big tits Susan. I've always been sexually attracted to you," he said kissing and kissing her. "Yeah, that's it. Stroke my cock baby."

Susan pulled away from him to look at him with her big, blue eyes.

"If you're going to fuck me Randy, let's get it over with but only under one condition," she said.

"What's that? Anything. You name it and I'll do it. Do you want me to beg you? Do you want me to bark like a dog? Is that it? Do you want to slap my naked ass and/or want me to slap your naked ass? I'm game if you are? Do you want me to pleasure you first and give you an orgasm? I can do that. Just tell me what you want. What? Just tell me what I need to do to have sex with your beautiful body," he said touching her and feeling her everywhere. "I'll do anything to have sex with you Susan. Anything."

"My condition is that I only do you and not your four, fat, old friends," she said slowly stroking his cock. "I'm not really into gangbangs but Crystal is. Crystal will do all of you," she said whispering in his ear before sticking her tongue in his ear. "Crystal is a real cum slut. She loves to fuck and suck. After you're done with me and after I leave here safe and sound, you can go to her too. She'll allow you all to fuck all three of her holes, that is..."

"That is? That is what? What do you mean, that is?"

"So long as you give her an orgasm and you had better tell your friends that too, because giving her orgasm, as important as it is for a man to cum, is really important to her. If you think that you can just slam bang her and leave her sexually frustrated, you can't. Not with Crystal. She'll turn violent on you. She's strangely, sexually demented in that way. I'm warning you Randy. She'll go psycho on you, if you don't give her what she wants and what she needs. She wants her fun just as much as you want your fun," she said.

"Psycho?" Randy gave her a concerned look. "What do you mean by her going Psycho?"

"Did you see the movie The Social Network about Facebook?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Do you remember the psycho Asian chick who set fire to the room because her boyfriend was leaving her and rejecting her to go to California?

"Yeah," said Randy. "So? She's not going to set fire to my house if my friends don't give her an orgasm, is she?"

"She might," said Susan.

"Is she that crazy to do something like that?"

"Suffice to say, multiply the behavior of that Asian chick in that film times ten and that's Crystal," returning his look of concern. "Why do you think I was in bed with her? I'm afraid of her. Rather than saying no to her and rather than pissing her off when she's been drinking, especially when she's been drinking, I had sex with her," said Susan. "Best tell your friends to give her what she wants and what she needs, an orgasm, or she'll go nuts on them."

"I see. So, she's the one who seduced you? Is that it?" He looked at her with confusion by all that she told him.

"You bet your ass she did. I'm not a lesbian. I was just drunk and horny. Any port in a storm works for women as much as it works for men," she said with a laugh. "Now shut up and fuck me. If you make me cum, I'll suck your cock," she said with another laugh, "but before you do, best you warn your friends about Crystal."

"Okay," said Randy. "Wait here. I'll be right back," he said looking back at Susan to make sure she wasn't ready to bolt.

"Tell your four friends that I'm off limits and everything is cool with gangbanging Crystal, that is, so long as they get her to cum. If they don't, she'll turn violent on you."

Randy looked at Susan with horror by what she just confessed.

"Violent? What do you mean by violent?" Dave looked at Randy for an explanation.

"You don't want to know. Just make sure they sexually satisfy her and she'll sexually satisfy them all. If they get her off, there won't be a problem," said Randy. "If they don't, God help them."

"I'll be right back," said Randy hustling to the guest bedroom. Randy pulled Dave aside. "Make sure you give Crystal an orgasm."

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about us. When we're done with Crystal, Susan is next," said Dave.

"No, Susan is off limits. I told you. She's all mine," he said giving him a hard stare until Dave backed down. "Don't forget to give Crystal an orgasm. Susan said if you don't that she'll turn--"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry Randy," said Dave. "I have everything she needs right here," he said holding his cock in his hand.

"And hands off on Susan," said Randy.

"Yeah, yeah Randy, Susan is all yours. I get it," he said.

"Susan told me that Crystal may have violent issues if she's left sexually frustrated," said Randy.

"Don't worry. Between the four of us, one of us will get her to cum," said Dave whispering Randy's instructions to his friends.

Once returning back to the master bedroom and to Susan, Randy mounted Susan while kissing her. She reached down and inserted his cock in her already moist pussy and slowly rocked him deeper inside of her. 

"Oh my God Susan, you're so tight," he said.

"You're just used to fucking older woman who have had babies," she said with a laugh. "I'm not ready for kids just yet," she said with a laugh.

"You're right about that. I've had nothing but a steady diet of fat, fifty-year-old woman with sagging tits, big thighs, and flabby asses," he said with sadness.

"Now make love to me first Randy before you fuck me, really fuck me. If you fuck me hard, later, after you give me an orgasm," she said whispering in his ear. "I'll suck your cock like no other woman has ever sucked your cock."

"Oh God," he said. 'Thank you Jesus,' he thought to himself again.

"I'll allow you to cum in my mouth and if you have anything left, you may give me a cum bath. How would you like to shoot a load of cum all over my face?"

"Are you kidding me Susan? I'd love to give you a cum bath. I'd love to see my warm, oozy cum dripping from every part of your face."

You may cum on my face, my hair, and all over my breasts, that is, under one condition," she said with a laugh.

"More conditions? What are you a Philadelphia lawyer? Okay, okay," he said with a laugh. "What's your condition this time?"

"You may give me a cum bath, so long as you lick your cum off my face," she said with a dirty laugh.

"Is that it? Definitely, I'd lick my own cum off your beautiful face to give you a cum bath," he said with sexual excitement. "Better that I lick my own cum from your face than my being one of my friends licking Crystal's pussy while getting a mouthful of someone else's cum. Maybe they're into that but I'm not," he said.

Accustomed to women who weren't so openly sexual, Susan's demands for an orgasm pressured Randy to perform. He hoped the beers he had wouldn't get in the way of giving Susan what she wanted from his 55-year-old body, an orgasm. Needing to give her an orgasm first, he really wanted her to suck his cock and give her a cum bath. He couldn't wait to see his cum dripping from her face.

Meanwhile in the guest bedroom, as if she was a paid professional, Crystal was putting on a sexual show by sexually entertaining Doug, Marty, Dave, and Wayne. With more energy than any 55-year-old man and more lustful desire than any horny man, Crystal fucked and sucked them all with sexually passion that none of them have ever known. As if she was the perfect woman of their sexual fantasies, she was sexually inspired and passionately aroused to leave no man sexually frustrated.

"Who's cock haven't I had in my mouth yet?" She laughed while looking at the four men. "C'mon, I need to suck a cock. I have a phallic fixation. I don't get as sexually excited unless I have a cock in my mouth," she said with a sexy laugh.

"You haven't sucked my cock yet," said Dave raising his hand as if he was in school and Crystal was his sexy albeit naked teacher.

"Well, bring your dick over here but someone needs to be licking my pussy while I'm sucking a cock. I need to cum too. And who wants to be first to fuck me in the ass?"

"I'll lick you," said Marty crawling beneath Crystal and lying on his back between her legs as she squatted down over him and as if she was about to urinate in his mouth.

"I'll fuck your ass," said Doug. "I love your ass Crystal. You have a wonderful ass," he said feeling, squeezing and kissing her ass when she raised her ass a little higher to give him access to her round behind.

With her ass poised up in the air and Marty hanging onto her thighs while licking her pussy from below, using a bit of lube from the nightstand, Doug eased his erect cock inside of Crystal's rectum while holding onto her tits for balance. A three-way chain of sexual pleasure, Marty and Doug were doing what they could to give Crystal an orgasm after she gave them one by sucking them.

Dave walked to Crystal and held his erect cock up to her mouth and immediately, she took his cock inside. Now doing three men at once, Wayne stuck his cock in her hand. With Marty licking her pussy from below, Doug fucking her in the ass from behind, her blowing Dave while stroking his cock with her right hand, she was now giving Wayne a hand job with her left hand. An ambidextrous lover, it took four men to give Crystal what she wanted and needed, an orgasm. Yet, even with that joint effort, they all fell short.

"Okay, this isn't working," said Crystal unleashing herself from their grasp to make herself comfortable on her back in the middle of the bed. "I'm getting a leg cramp. I need you all to fuck me one at a time. I need you all to really pound my pussy and part my clam. I need you all to give me the best orgasm I've ever had," she said. 

One by one, two at a time, three at a time, and even four at a time, everyone had their way with Crystal. Cumming off in her mouth, her ass, and in her pussy, with each man getting a full mouthful of the other man's cum in the process, they were done. They were spent. They had nothing left in the tank to fuck Crystal. Getting up from the bed defeated to get dressed, after having sex for two, sweaty hours, they were ready to leave.

"Hey! Where are you all going? Don't leave. I need you to fuck me. C'mon you bunch of wussies. What kind of man leaves a woman in this sexually unsatisfied my condition? Someone needs to give me an orgasm," she said louder.

"We've done all that we could Crystal but your insatiable. You're a total nymphomaniac," said Wayne. "We couldn't satisfy you if we had an entire football team ready to take their turn with you."

"Are you saying there's something wrong with me? Are you saying that I have a screw loose that I can't be sexually satisfied by four, healthy, horny men? Are you calling me crazy because you didn't make me cum?" Crystal sat up in bed. Did you just call me crazy?" Her eyes were bugging out of her head. "I dare you to say that to my face. I double dare you," she said looking from Dave to Marty to Doug and to Wayne.

"You're not crazy Crystal. You're just too much woman for us. That was the best blowjob I've ever had," said Dave after having ejaculated in her mouth, "but I have to go."

"I have to get home too," said Doug after unloading a big load of oozy cum in her ass. "Thanks for everything Crystal. That was the best anal sex I ever had."




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 02



"Thanks for everything?" Crystal looked at the four men as if she hated them all. "What am I your fucking hostess?"

"It's late," said Marty. "I have to get home too."

"I have to get up early. I have work tomorrow," said Wayne. "It's been great Crystal. Thanks for the hand job."

"Wait! Don't go. Please don't go," she said begging them to stay. "What about me?"

"What about you?" Dave looked at her as if she was nuts before looking to Marty, Doug, and Wayne.

"I didn't cum. You all got off and no one gave me an orgasm," she said obviously getting angry.

"You can't say we didn't try to get you off," said Dave.

"Yeah, we gave it the best team effort," said Doug.

"We'll take a rain check," said Marty laughing. "We can do this again another time. I'd love to gangbang you again Crystal. I'd love for you to suck my cock again while I lick your pussy. Call me," he said putting his fingers to his mouth and ear.

"You think it's funny that I fucked and sucked you four dopes and not one of you has sexually satisfied me? How dare you! How dare you!" Crystal reached down for her purse and pulled out a snub nosed .38. "I'll show you what happens when you mistreat Crystal," she said referring to herself in the third person as if she was crazy and, at that very moment, she was, she pointed her gun at the four men.

"Hold on there now," said Wayne. "Don't be waving that gun around like that. Put down the gun and let's talk about this. Someone get between her legs and lick her pussy while someone else play with her titties." 

"Don't worry Crystal, we'll get you to cum," said Dave. "We won't leave here until your sexually satisfied.

"It's too late," said Crystal. "The moment has passed."

Firing off four rounds and hitting four bulls-eyes, Randy and Susan ran to the spare bedroom naked.

"It was all their fault. They made me shoot them. I didn't cum," said Crystal. "I told them that I needed to cum," she said crying.

* * * * *

William stopped stroking himself and turned off the porn movie he was watching, Gangbanging his Daughter's Bridesmaids. Unusual to hear the sound of a big truck coming down his residential street, the sound of a diesel engine and loud airbrakes caused him to get up from his chair to peer out his office window.

Barely eight o'clock in the morning, a moving van pulled up across the street behind a car that had pulled up ahead of him. He watched as a long legged, blonde woman emerged from the driver's seat to interact with the movers. Is she his new neighbor? Damn, she looks just like that porn actress, Susan, he had just been watching. Wondering if he was seeing things and wondering if he was imagining her being the same woman he had just watched on television, he could only hope she was the same woman.

Not knowing or caring about the rest of his neighbors and how they'd feel about a porn star living on their street, he'd love for a porn star to move in across the street from him. He hoped she wasn't just the real estate agent. Maybe his days of staring at his wife was starting to brighten. He wouldn't mind a new view especially one where she forgot to pull her shades at night before undressing.

'Wow! She's hot. I'd do her,' thought William to himself when she emerged from the car with her short skirt up to her crotch. As if he was watching a flower bloom in superfast speed, he stared at her as she emerged from her car. His focused surveillance of her was rewarded when she flashed him her bright, while bikini panties while stepping from her car. 'Thank you Jesus,' he thought to himself.

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 03



Everything changes for the better when a new neighbor moves in across the street.

Obviously, as evident by his intense interest in his new neighbor, William's marriage to Liz was over. Dead for a long time and living a lie, they maintained a happy facade for the sake of their friends, their neighbors, their children, and for the rest of the family, especially over the holidays. Maybe because he was older and fed up with the charade of being nice to people he didn't like, but the holidays, always a difficult time, were especially exhausting this year.

Not wanting to show a public display of affection for his wife, he spent the day at her parents' house and at his parents' house avoiding the mistletoe. With them visiting the relatives and no one visiting them, they didn't even bother with decorating a Christmas tree. There used to be a time when they looked forward to Christmas but now it's just another day.

Always looking forward to giving than receiving, buying Christmas gifts used to be exciting. Now Christmas gifts was more an awkwardly uncomfortable chore than it was a pleasurable exchange. He remembered those times when he surprised her with a vacation trip, a mink coat, and a puppy. Now he just goes through the motions. He buys her things that she wants and needs, instead of buying her things that he'd like her to have and she buys him the same stuff every year. Christmas once exciting is now boring.

"Merry Christmas Liz," he said kissing her cheek after giving her diamond earrings, Donna Karen Cashmere perfume, 2 flannel nightgowns, an 800 down vest, and a Polartec jacket. 

Everything she wanted and asked to have, he bought her, but for a shotgun. He wondered if she was taking up hunting with the flannel, down, and Polartec. He could see her sitting in a blind with shotgun in hand while wearing her diamond earrings, perfume, down vest, and Polartec jacket over her flannel nightgowns while waiting for the ducks and geese to fly by overhead. Only, his wife wasn't a hunter. The only hunting she ever did was when she bagged him. After she married him, she never had to work another day in her life. Living a life of luxury, she wanted for nothing. 

Without even having a clue what to buy a woman who has everything and a woman he's known longer than he's been single, he had to ask her hairdresser, her friends, and her sister for hints of what his wife would want for Christmas. He even dared ask his wife what she wanted for Christmas. How absurd was that especially when he always knew what she wanted for Christmas, birthdays, and anniversaries before? No longer interested in pleasing her and in celebrating the holidays with her, even he was embarrassed by his lack of knowledge, concern, and consideration for his wife. His lack of feelings were highlighted, spotlighted, and culminated with the advent of Christmas in the selection of a Christmas gift for her that she picked out and asked him to buy her. With no surprises and joy, there was no fun in shopping for gifts and wrapping presents.

"Merry Christmas William," she said handing him his yearly $100 gift card to Starbucks, renewed subscription to Penthouse and Playboy magazines, a selection of assorted tools, a bottle of single malt scotch, and Adele CD's. He loved Adele.

Sometimes, when he was alone and especially horny, he masturbated to her CD's as he imagined her singing to him while she's topless. Unlike his wife, Adele has big tits. Only, as soon as she opens her mouth to speak in that God awful Cockney accent that she has, as if she was a hillbilly from Kentucky or Tennessee, she ruins the moment and the image that he has of her as a sexy diva. Still, he loves her voice and her songs erase the misery that he has now living in a loveless marriage.

"Don't talk," he imagine saying to her. "Just sing while I masturbate and feel your big tits Adele."

Beyond wanting to be finally free of Liz and sometimes wishing she was dead as he used to do when they first started drifting apart, he was the one who had already died in living his life or, more appropriately, not living his life while still with her. Now. as if strangers sharing a house and a kitchen, they just coexisted in strained silence. No more small talk. No more belly laughs. No more watching television together and sharing what happened in their days when apart from one another.

Sometimes they go days without seeing and interacting with one another. Now that the kids are gone and busy living their lives, when he could and should be doing things and going places with her, he does everything without her. What many men wish they had, a life free of their wife, he wished he had her in his life again. Only, with too much water under the bridge, he had no idea where to throw out a lifeline to save his broken marriage. Tired of doing things and going places alone, his marriage was a sham and he was wasting his life living with her. He should be happy but he's miserable.

With the holidays finally over, the reality of spending another cold, miserable winter with his cold, miserable wife was something that he dreaded. He hated watching those fucking absurd Cialis commercials with those tall, thin, good looking models laughing and talking while acting as if they're so happy to be with one another before climbing in separate bathtubs. Why separate bathtubs? What is that about? If they're about to have sex, shouldn't they be sitting in the same bathtub? Perhaps because, unlike Viagra, only good for four hours, Cialis stays in a man's system much longer so that he can bathe in his own fucking bathtub to have sex later.

'Assholes. That's just stupid,' he thought every time he saw that commercial.

He was envious of their imagined relationship. He wished he had their imagined life. He wish his wife looked like one of those thin, beautiful models in the commercial, not that his wife is bad looking, she's not but there was something about seeing those models that made him blatantly realize that he was missing out on living his life. Moreover, those models were a good twenty years younger than his wife and he'd love to have an affair with a hot 40-something-year-old woman.

Yet, time and again, every time he saw that commercial he wished his life was more like their portrayed lives. Truth be told, paid actors just playing a part to make old men like him feel sexually frustrated, alone, and lonely, the couples they showed on the Cialis commercials aren't married to one another which is why, no doubt, they look so fucking happy. Always, it hurt his heart to see another couple his age, a bit younger or a bit older, happy to be with one another when he's so alone, sad, and lonely. In reality, he wondered how many times those models were married and how many times they were unfaithful in their marriages. Maybe had he had an affair, he wouldn't feel the way he felt right now, sadly unhappy and depressingly unfulfilled. Maybe had he had an affair, he wouldn't feel as if he was missing something but the same old stuff with a different woman named Helen or Betty instead of Liz.

"I should have had sex with my secretary," he said for no one to hear.

'She was ready and willing. Always giving me the eye, flashing me her panties in up skirts and her bra and cleavage in down blouses, she was always coming on to me. She would have had sex with me right in my office. She wanted me in the way Liz once did and in the way I wish she wanted me now,' he thought while rehashing his inability to cheat on his wife, even in a marriage that was over and had been dead for years.

A difficult step to take, one he never thought he'd go through, the best thing he's ever done and the best sleep he's ever had, was when they decided to have separate bedrooms. Railing against sleeping in separate rooms before, having a good night's sleep now instead of hoping for sex then was a real blessing. Maybe had they had separate bedrooms from the start, they'd still be a couple instead of being estranged while still living in the same house. For merely financial reasons they live together while remaining apart.

"Maybe we should have separate bedrooms," she said nonchalantly without even looking up from her book after he complained that she was snoring all night.

Her words hit him as if they were the final nail in their marriage coffin. 'Til death do you part, he'd rather be dead than to go on living like this. This was no way to live. For a man with his education, career success, and money, he should be having fun. He should be going out with friends, going places, and doing things, just as those models do in those Cialis commercials, instead of hiding in his house.

"Separate bedrooms? Out of the question. I'm not sleeping alone. I can't sleep alone," he said. Something he never thought about before she had him thinking about now.

Able to masturbate in private, now that he sleeps alone, he feels rested and younger instead of feeling tired and old. Instead of trying to fart in silence, now he allows his farts to rip through his pajama bottoms without worry that he'd be waking her and stinking up the room. Yet, sadly, not even privy to seeing her remove her clothes to change into her nightgown, as if closing the lid on the coffin of their zombie like relationship and dead marriage, it was then that he realized that their marriage was finally and officially over. 

Mourning the loss of her in his life as if she had died, even though she was right there every day, he didn't know how to fix what was broken between them. Just as he couldn't remember when they shared a belly laugh in the way they used to always do, he couldn't remember the last time they had a real conversation. Always strained, disjointed, and truncated by interruptions and their thoughts in desires going off in different directions instead of jointly meeting somewhere in the middle, their conversations always ended with her bitching at him and him walking away in frustration. He was the type who'd leave rather than argue, a peculiarity for a lawyer to flee a confrontation without first arguing his case and pleading for her indulgence and mercy. Only with all of his appeals exhausted, trying to argue with her was a mute point and a nolo contendere decision. 

Even though they slept in separate bedrooms now for a few years, as if she's no longer of this Earth, he still mourns the loss of his wife in his life. He misses the way his life once was with her always so happy to see him and to please him. With no one to talk to except for his friends and neighbors, unable to share the secrets he once dared to share with his wife, he's lonely. For so long his wife was his best friend, his lover, and his companion and now there's no word for what they are. They're nothing. They're over. Just as he doesn't care where she goes and what she does, she doesn't care about him either.

Still feeling that she was in his life because he saw her every day, unlike a divorce the sorrow of her not there anymore has yet to hit him. Nonetheless, with no one to cuddle and no one to spoon, he's grown cold without her warm body there in his bed to let him know that he's not alone. He wished things were the way they once were before they had children and with the responsibility and expense of maintaining this big, empty house. Once thinking he was so handy that he could fix anything, a lawyer who could unravel any problem and give advice to any stranger for a perfect solution, he was at a loss how to fix his own marriage and how to continue communicating with his own wife. He was baffled by his wife and troubled with his life. A diversion from his misery, he didn't know what else to do other than to lust over his new neighbor.

'She's a real beauty,' he thought continuing to watch his new neighbor from his office window. 'She has big tits too, at least a D cup, maybe even a double D cup.'

Torn between thinking of Liz and watching this neighbor, he mindlessly watched his neighbor while trying to figure out what to do with his wife. How could something that burned so hot for so long turn so cold overnight? She treated him as if he had an affair when he hasn't. A line he's never crossed, yeah sure, he looks at other women while imagining what they'd be like in bed but he never touches, solicits, and/or propositions anyone, even though he's had plenty of opportunity to do so.

When they first met, Liz was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Unable to eat, sleep, and breath without her, never had he wanted to be with a woman as much as he wanted to spend his life with her. Tall, striking, and shapely, even now, three and a half decades later, she still casts a sexy silhouette and dark shadow over him that he can't escape. Truth be told, even though she's been a real bitch to him lately, he still loves her. He still wants her. He still wants to stay married to her but not like this.

Even now with just a look, a laugh, or a smile, he sees glimpses of the woman he fell in love with and the woman she once was, fun, funny, and exciting. No doubt, for the love of her, she's made him a better man, albeit now a sexually frustrated and confounded man. What he thought he'd have in her as a companion later in life when he retired, she acts as if she doesn't even like him, never mind love him. He had no idea how to fix what was broken.

There was a time, especially when they first met, that they couldn't keep their hands and lips off of one another. Having sex day and night when they were first married and continuing like that for three, happy years, he noticed a change in her when she became pregnant with their first child. Maybe it was hormonal, maybe it was motherly instincts, and/or maybe it was a path that she had to walk to continue on with her life but, whatever the reason, she changed for good. Taking much of the blame himself then, he wasn't so free to blame all of it on himself now, especially now that he's seen a different side of her, an angrier and bitchier side, and a side he's never seen before. 

It was when he was building his career and making his mark, his reputation, and his name that they drifted apart. With him working long hours, he was never home. A difficult time for both of them, understandably, with her priorities changed too, she was more focused on her baby then on him. More than that, as if watching her with her child from afar, feeling detached and excluded instead of included, it was then that he faded from her attention and from being the spotlight of her attention to being just a blip on her radar screen. 

He wasn't the one who had given birth and, instinctively, she was unable to include him in all that she felt while holding, breast feeding, and caring for her child. Instead of being her lover, he was relegated to being her husband and the father of their children, a role that he wasn't ready to play all day and every day just yet. He still wanted to be her lover.

What should have strengthened their marriage, having children, albeit three demanding and all consuming, ungrateful, little being, it was then that their marriage began to suffer and crumple. The strong foundation they once had quickly eroded with outside pressures, complications of interfering grandmothers, and mandatory invitations to see relatives he'd rather not see. In between all of that was all the cross country and international trips he was required to take and the long hours he had to work. Ready to breakup on the rocks, his marriage was adrift on stormy seas.

As if they were stranded and marooned on an deserted island and so alone with their bad selves, he watched her and their children fade from sight while he paddled off for work. Gone for days on business trips, with his children walking and talking without him sharing the joy of their first steps and first words, he missed so very much of all that happened in his absence. With his mind on the legal issues of others, even when he was there with her and their children, it was obvious by their strained interactions that he was no longer an integral part of their life and of this family. Half a world away, with London, Tokyo, Hong Kong, and Beijing waking up when he was going to sleep, his attention was always somewhere else. With his mind filled with other things, his focused attention changed from her to his work.

With the romance over, an exciting blip that didn't nearly last as long as he hoped it would and as long as their marriage promised to last, he felt cheated that he only had one, short, albeit exciting ride on the big rollercoaster of his quickly fading and changing life. Seemingly, by the joy she still has in her children and now her grandchildren, something that makes him feel even more detached, disconnected, and alienated, she's just beginning her fun at the amusement park with her family by her side, while he's wandering off alone and without being there to experience all the fun and pleasure. Being that he's been the one paying for all of their admissions to the fun fair, never able to relax enough to experience their fun because of his high pressure job, he was on the outside looking in while watching his family do all the things that he wished he could do.

"What about me? When is it my turn? I'm tired of working so hard for all the things I miss," he said with sadness.

'No one said that life would be fair,' he thought to himself while watching his new neighbor carrying in personal items from her car. 

'Damn, she's such a beautiful woman. Maybe because she's so tall, blonde, and busty, she reminds me of how Shannon Tweed, Gene Simmons wife, used to look before she got old and had that ridiculous facelift.'

Too late now. By the time Liz focuses her attention back on him, if ever, he'll be too old to care. The grieving widow, he'll be dead and buried by then. Just one more time, he'd like to have one last, long ride on the rollercoaster of his sexual life while throwing up his arms in the air, screaming with joy, and cumming with excitement.

While imagining her naked and in bed with him, he watched his neighbor walking around outside and instructing the movers what to do. Just one more time, he'd love to know what it felt like to make love to a woman as beautiful and as sexually exciting as Liz was back then and as beautiful as his neighbor is now. He wished he could go back in time to relive their romance to figure what went wrong. Was it just living too busy of a life that interrupted and ruined their love affair? Whether it was with Liz or with someone else, just one last time, he'd love to have another chance at a love affair before he died.

In an out of her house carrying things, he watched his new neighbor open her car door to lean her hot body inside her small car. Away from the view of the movers but in direct view of his office window, he watched her short skirt climb higher as she reached longer. She had nice stems, the nicest legs his seen in a long while.

"Bend just a little more honey and you'll give me an up skirt shot of your panties, that is, if you're even wearing any."

Just as he thought that, flashing him her bright, white bikini panties, she leaned all the way in her car to get something, a pair of jeans.

"Now where are you going to change into those?" He watched her sit in her car seat, kick off her shoes, and put on her jeans beneath her short skirt. Then, removing her skirt, she abandoned her shoes for her sneakers. "I have a feeling that this neighbor is going to give me a nightly, striptease show," he said. "Exhibitionist woman, meet voyeuristic man."

Now that they barely speak to one another, he's taken residence upstairs with the dog and she lives downstairs with her damn, spoiled, special diet of a cat. Much in the way she's grown to be, with the cat being so fussy, the dog will eat anything and everything put down in front of him, be it dog food, cat food, or cat poop. He couldn't imagine living the rest of his life like this, alone with his bad self in a room with the dog as if they're caged animals at the zoo. Yet, things could be worse. Better than getting a divorce and splitting everything he worked so hard to amass in half while paying exorbitant legal fees for something that he could do himself, at least they don't argue.




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 03



No doubt, they'd actually have to feel something enough to fight but those loving feelings died long ago when he embraced his job and she embraced her children. It would be horribly uncomfortable if they were at one another's throats. Instead, as if existing in an asylum while beating his head against the wall, he suffers his sexual frustration in silence. She speaks more to the mailman than she does to him and he has more to say to the young, pretty woman at the coffee shop than he has to say to his wife of thirty-five years.

"What happened? Where did our love go?"

It wasn't until a new neighbor moved in across the street that everything changed, including the view, especially the view, and all for the better. William watched her from his upstairs office window as if he was a wild dog not allowed out without his leash and without his wife to control him. She was so damn gorgeous. She was so damn sexy. She was so damn shapely. She was so damn blonde.

"Hello beautiful. Who are you?"

She was tall but not too tall. In the way she stood against her door frame and walked outside to move up against the moving van men, he figured her for 5'9". Taller with heels, being that she was wearing flats and much taller and better looking than the average woman but shorter than a runway model, he indelibly noted that she was the perfect height for his 6'3" frame. He imagined pushing her up against a wall to kiss her while reaching around behind her to feel her perfect ass and fondle her big breasts before making love to her.

"Oh my God. Is she really my new neighbor? I hope she's not the daughter or the real estate agent waiting for another elderly woman to move in across the street from me," he said to himself while staring at her as if watching a movie. "She'd make my day and my life complete, if she moved in across from me, so long as she doesn't have a compliment of kids with her too."

'Something in the Way She Moves,' the Beatles song came to his mind while watching her gliding along the sidewalk instead of walking.

She reminded him of Liz when she was that age. Difficult to tell with a woman, he figured her for late thirties early forties while hoping for the latter than the former. He cringed at having an affair with a woman who was too close to his daughter's age. He could only imagine the disapproving stare of disappointment his daughter would give him.

"How could you Daddy? How could you do that to mother? She's nearly my age. She's young enough to be your daughter," he imagined his daughter lambasting him if ever she was to find out that he was having an affair with his new, sexy neighbor. "Pervert!"

Only, not having even met the woman and he was already in bed with her. Besides, it would be one thing to have an affair, but quite another thing to have an affair with a younger woman. There was just no way that Liz could compete with a younger woman just as he couldn't compete with a younger man. Without doubt, if he dared try to seduce her and if Liz found out, his new neighbor would be the ruin of him. He'd be hauled into divorce court faster than he could hide his assets. No doubt, if he was going to have an affair, Liz would rather he have an affair with a woman her age, a bit younger, or even a bit older. Knowing her as he did, she'd close her eyes to that but not to this, an affair with a younger woman.

Something he's never done with any woman before, other than with his wife when first meeting her so very long ago, he imagined himself holding her around her slim waist and kissing her in the moonlight. He imagined himself whispering sweet nothings in her ear while promising to love her forever. He imagined her being his second chance at the life he missed having with Liz and doing all the things with her that he should be doing with his wife. Sure, he's lusted over lots of other woman before, in movies, magazines, at work, and while driving down the street but that was just sex. Seeing her for the first time as if experiencing love at first sight, when he thought of his new neighbor, he thought of being romantic with her rather than being sexual with her.

Unable to remove his eyes from her, he felt as if he was watching her in a play and he had the perfect, lower balcony seat to see all of the action. In just watching her, reading into her more than he should and could, he imagined himself talking to her about everything and laughing over nothing. With one hand around her slim waist and his hand resting on the top of her round, firm buttocks, he thought about holding hands with her while walking with her in the sunshine, in the moonlight, and down the aisle. Having been alone too long, he wanted someone in his life, someone who reminded him of Liz and someone who could give him all that he's lost.

Going where he's never gone before with anyone, always the faithful husband, the obedient companion, and the loyal friend, he imagined himself lying next to her in bed naked and in the dark and saying things to her that he'd never dare say to his wife. Then, as if to prove to himself that she was real and he was there with her and not having a sexual fantasy, he imagined turning on the light to look at her naked body, stare at her, and touch and feel her in places where he hasn't touched and felt his wife in years. If only he could have an affair with her, he would. Only, he didn't even know her name.

"I wonder what her name is?"

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 04



Bill watches his new neighbor moving in with great lust.

Having just seen her for the first time and without even knowing her name, he imagined her in heels and with her hair up. He imagined her escorting him to the Oscars. He imagined sitting with her at the 50-yard line while watching the Super Bowl. He imagined the two of them cruising to some remote, tropical island to tan in the sun, play in the sand, swim in the sea, and make love under the stars in the moonlight. He imagined walking down the aisle from the altar with her after dumping his wife, whatever was her name, and marrying her. Suddenly, caught up in wondering what his new neighbor's name was, he forgot his wife's name.

Already imagining him having an affair with her, how could such a woman have such a strong hold on him when he's yet to even meet her and didn't even know what to call her? Maybe he's going through something, another rite of passage that comes with age just before retirement and collecting Social Security checks. Yet, whatever he was feeling for her and/or going through with himself, one last rollercoaster ride, he'd loved to spend the rest of his life dancing with her as his last chance partner. With her by his side, already feeling the excitement of a Prom date, he'd looked forward to living life again. With her in his bed, he'd never feel sexually frustrated again.

In the way of Michael Douglas with Katherine Zeta Jones, she was young but not too young. More mature than the young women that men like him lust over while walking through the mall but still a good twenty years younger than he was, she was a sexy sight for his old, horny eyes to behold. He'd loved to take her to Vegas and walk through the hotel lobbies and casinos with her by his side while playing some fast action on the tables before having some hot action in bed. In the way he once did with his wife, now his last hip, hip hoorah, he'd love to go everywhere and do everything with her.

She was the type of woman who made him happy that he just refilled his eyeglass prescription and asked his doctor for Cialis pills. Probably, no doubt, from watching one too many commercials, he didn't even know why he ordered the Cialis pills when he did. He wasn't having sex with Liz or with anyone. He hasn't had sex with his wife in years. Yet, now armed and dangerous with his perfect, 20/20 vision and prescription of little, yellow pills at the ready, when staring at someone like her, he'd want to see her clearly without the blurred vision and without having the softly, disinterested cock he once experienced. 

Reading into her as if he already knew her, without doubt, by her beautiful face and shapely body, she was old enough to know better than to get mixed up with him, an older, married man. With all of his lame excuses already used by other men, if he ever was to have an affair with her that was discovered, his only viable defense as evidenced just by the sexy sight of her, he could always claim temporary insanity. For someone who looked like her, she'd be worth a trip to the mental institution to forever have the memory of making love to her. 

"Just as my wife no longer wants me, my new neighbor would never want me either," he said sadly while already feeling rejected by her.

A troubling reality, why would someone like her want someone like him? If only he was younger, thinner, and had more hair. If only his name was Chad, or Brad, or Reggie and he looked hot in tennis shorts, a Speedo, or had a string of Polo ponies, maybe he'd have more of a chance with her. Yet, truth be told, looking more forward to retirement and to sit in a rocking chair somewhere dry in the sun than to begin a sexual relationship with a woman who'd surely give him enough sexual pleasure for him to die happy of a heart attack, he was an aging barrister at the end of a long and successful career. 

Jumping way ahead of himself, having much to lose with his ties to the community and his confessed love for his wife, if only he could remember her name, he should have known better than to want someone he couldn't have in the way that he wanted his new neighbor now. No doubt, he'd be better off if he just bought a sports car and racked up some speeding tickets. As if having a crush on a movie star, his chances with her was less than the chance he'd have at winning the lottery or at winning a case that had been selected to be heard before the Supreme Court. Never having won the lottery, he never even had the opportunity to try such a case before the Supreme Court either. Only, he wished his luck would suddenly change in seducing her, his beautiful new neighbor.

Nonetheless his immediate attraction to her by his obvious reaction when his cock awoke to an erection just by the sexy sight of her, he couldn't imagine someone like her wanting to be with someone like him, a man who had seen better days. Able to afford to buy a house on his street, she didn't appear to be the type of woman who needed his money either. Just as it had been a long time since a woman gave him a double take, a second glance, and the eye, it had been a long time since any woman has given him an erection just by the sexy sight of her. Past his prime, feeling much younger than his age but sometimes looking a lot older, especially in the early morning or late at night, he had just turned sixty-years-old.

Sixty years old? He was just forty-years-old. What the Hell happened? Where did the time go? What happened to the last twenty years? Except for bits and pieces, he couldn't remember anything of the last twenty years but for major events. No doubt, looking at how young she is, he has hats, shoes, and golf clubs that are older than his new neighbor is.

Being that she was alone in her new house, he wondered if she was married. Maybe she's divorced. Nonetheless her marital status, he wondered if she had children. Someone who looks like her must have a man in her life. Being that there's always a good reason why someone is alone, he wondered what was wrong with her. Maybe she murdered her last two husbands and bought the house with their life insurance money. Maybe she's a terrorist living innocuously in suburbia until she receives a phone call with detailed instructions on how to assassinate the President.

Nonetheless, her possibly being a murderess or a terrorist, looking for clues in who she was by the furniture and possessions that the movers moved in her house from the moving truck, he persevered in his study of her. He wondered if she liked dogs, a dog as dirty as he was to lick her face, blow in her ear, and impale his tongue in her mouth before spreading her legs and having her put her ankles upon his broad shoulders while he licked and fingered her pussy. Who knows, maybe someone like her could teach someone like him, who didn't have a Facebook page, never texted a message, and didn't know how to Twitter, some new tricks?

Oh, yeah, he'd love to be her dirty, albeit old, loyal dog of a neighbor. Dangerously convenient, how good would that be to have his mistress living across the street from him? Only, with her living just across the street, how would he see her unnoticed by his nosey neighbors and his angry wife? They'd have to drive their cars to a secret hideaway to discreetly meet somewhere off the beaten path. No doubt, he'd have to get an apartment somewhere in the city.

"Woof! Bow wow," he said for no one to hear when he saw her bending down to pick up something she dropped. "Wow, she has such a beautiful ass."

She was blonde but not a bleached blonde. He could tell that even from across the street.

"My compliments to my ophthalmologist," he said for no one to hear.

Even from this distance, he could tell that her hair didn't look like straw and feel like hay. With highlighted layers glimmering with multi colored highlights from white to honey to bright blonde and with all of the yellow hues shining to compliment the sun, her hair looked much lighter than straw and softer than hay. If there was such a machine that could spin the soft, gold, metal into hair, her hair was the color of spun gold.

He didn't have to see her blonde, magic carpet to know that she was a real blonde. He could tell by her eyebrows and by her complexion that she was a natural blonde. Even from where he stood, he could see that she had freckles. He loved women who had freckles. Maybe, one day, she'd allow him a closer and deeper inspection of her freckles that no doubt dotted her chest too.

"What are you doing?" He imagined his sexy neighbor asking him.

"Nothing," he'd say embarrassed that she caught him looking, leering, and staring down her blouse.

"Why are you looking down my blouse?" He imagined her asking him.

Duh? Why do you think I'm looking down your blouse, he wanted to say but didn't.

"I, um, was just looking at your freckles," he imagined saying with the nervous smile of a perverted, old lecher.

"Freckles my ass. You were staring at my tits, weren't you, you horrible, old man," he imagined her saying and storming off mad at him. 

Now that he imagined that about her, how he perceived she'd react to catching him ogling her, he'd take care not to offend her when he did meet her. No doubt, if she was leaning over in front of him, he couldn't help himself from looking down her blouse or up her skirt. Only, keeping his eye on the prize by not allowing her to catch him ogling her, he'd rather be deemed her lover than some dirty, old man trying to get a cheap down blouse peek or up skirt view of her panty clad, blonde pussy. Surely, he'd much rather seduce her than to offend her with inappropriate leers.

He opened his desk drawer to retrieve his binoculars. Not much of a bird watcher, he's been known to spy on his neighbor's wives should they forget to pull their shades or close their blinds. Only with his neighbors as old and older than him, he hasn't had much of a chance to use his binoculars with any kind of sexual excitement since the Wilson's son had a big party when they took a cruise and left him to housesit. He never saw so many young, topless and naked woman in their swimming pool.

Wondering what color eyes she had, he wanted a closer view of her pretty face. Focusing on her while pushing his zoom lens, she had big, blue eyes that looked excited to be moving across the street from him, he imagined while knowing that was his fantasy and not hers. A little, white lie but something he needed to tell himself was the imagined truth he needed to continue the fantasy and to hold onto the ray of hope of being with her one day. He'd be crushed if she had a boyfriend or a husband. Only, someone who looks like her must have a man sniffing around her. Definitely, someone who looked like her would never be without a man.

Already planning his escape as if breaking out of prison with his warden ensconced downstairs, he planned his next big party in his head with her as the star guest and the main attraction to make all of his friends and neighbors jealous. He wondered how he'd get away with not inviting his wife to his private party, especially when they lived in the same house. Maybe he'll just wait until she's gone for a week to see her mother. While the cats away, hoping to God that she'd take her cat with her too, this big rat would play.

Not a typical Texas, blonde, beauty pageant winner, appearing to be blessed with more intelligence than that, if only judging her imagined big brain from her high forehead, she was beautiful nonetheless. She had that kind of beauty that took hold of him the first time he saw Marilyn Monroe, Morgan Fairchild, Elizabeth Montgomery, Kim Basinger, Heidi Klum, or Cheryl Ladd. Interestingly enough, he had lusted over them all in the way that he was lusting over her now. Knowing full well that it was his sexual imagination playing sexy games with his mind, she looked just like that woman, Susan, in that porn video he was just watching. Damn, she was beautiful, sexy and hot, just as beautiful, sexy, and hot as his new neighbor. How cool would that be if a porn star moved in across the street from him?

"Holy cow," he said for no one to hear but himself.

He wondered what it would take to bed her. He wondered what he could do to impress her or what he could say to make her interested enough in him for her to want to remove her clothes. He wondered about all the men she must have kissed and rejected to be so alone now. Feeling a sudden pang of rejection, he wondered with deep regret and pitiful sorrow if she was lesbian.

'Boy wouldn't that be a kick in the balls if she was a pussy licker instead of a dick sucker. That would be so unfair if she preferred women to men,' he thought to himself.

Yet, now that he thought more about it, one who always loved women, a licker instead of a sucker himself, if only by his own definition of lesbianism, then he was lesbian too. Nonetheless his admitted attraction to women, he was a man and not a woman and that trumped his definition of him being a lesbian. He wasn't a lesbian but a horny, old man who longed to recapture all that he's missed with his wife with his younger, beautiful, new neighbor. A reason for everything and a reason why she moved in across the street from him, he hoped she was his reason as much as he hoped she preferred sucking a cock to licking a pussy. Only, her being lesbian wouldn't be a total waste so long as he could watch.

She had big tits, not circus sized breasts but big enough and hung low enough for him to tell that they looked real and weren't created by some plastic surgeon's Playboy Playmate's image of what he thought women's breast should look like. Too many women who get breast implants tend to error on the bigger side than on the smaller. Being that she was tall, in the way of former Miss America, Linda Carter of Wonder Woman fame and Cybil Shepherd of Moonlighting fame, she was built to carry big breasts, the kind of breasts that had a deep line of cleavage in the way that Loni Anderson of WKRP fame had sculpted in her phony breasts. Mountains of mammary glands with a deep valley between them, he wondered if he stuck his mouth down her blouse and yelled 'bit tits,' if there'd be an echo.

'Big tits! Big tits! Big tits!'

Where Liz was a padded B cup, easily, his new neighbor was a D cup but he suspected that she may even be a double D cup. Wow. He could only imagine what it would feel like to kiss her while feeling her enormous breasts through her blouse and bra. He could only imagine what it would feel like to remove her bra and feel her big, naked breasts. He could only imagine what it would feel like to finger her erect nipples while she sucked his cock. With his horny hands and lips his true, built-in breast measurement tools, for sure, he'd have to more closely examine her breasts to tell their true size.

'If you don't mind,' he imagined saying to her as if he worked in a lingerie shop and was fitting her for a bra. 'Just one more feel of your big breasts and one more suck of your erect nipple will allow me to tell your true breast size.'

'Well, okay,' he imagined her replying. 'Only keep your pants on this time.'

Being that it was the winter and wouldn't be the summer for several more months, he envisioned her tanning year round. He imagined her sunning herself topless out back in the winter, the spring, the summer, and the fall without benefit of a coat. Moreover, imagining her being impervious to the cold, he'd love to see her lying on a snow bank without her bikini bra. He imagined her using him as a model to perfect an anatomically correct snowman she made with a cock created from an icicle that was as long and as thick as his cock. With her playing the starring role in them, how perfect his life would be if his sexual fantasies were his sexual reality with her in it.

William loved tall, young, beautiful, blue-eyed blondes with big tits. He wondered if his wife had spotted her yet. Just as he was watching her from the upstairs windows, he figured that she was watching her from the downstairs windows. Being that he didn't hear any noise coming from downstairs, he figured she was already watching their new neighbor too. He and his wife needed to get a life. They were home too much for them to be too focused on spying on their new neighbor.

Typical for this small neighborhood, Liz was always noticing things that were none of her business. Always snooping and spying in the way of Mrs. Kravitz on Bewitch, if she was a man she'd be a voyeur in the way that he is. Even after the kids were long gone, if she was a man, he'd have decked her already instead of staying together with her in this empty marriage for the sake of the house, the kids, and the dog. Nonetheless, more out of habit than anything else, he was still weighted down by the mistakes of romance and marriage that he made early in life.

No doubt, if he was single he'd be helping his beautiful, blonde, busty neighbor move and rearrange her furniture while hoping to catch a glimpse of her big tits with a few down blouses and her panties with a few up skirts, that is, before she had changed into jeans. No doubt, if he was single, he'd be inviting her over for coffee or tea or sex. If he was single, he'd ask her out to dinner, a movie, a ballgame, or for some heavy breathing and sweaty humping. Someone like her makes him regret being married. If only he knew that he'd meet someone like her twenty years ago, when he was 40-years-old and she was 20-years-old, he would have ended his marriage then before the children went off to college to bury him in college tuition debt.

With the four moving men she had, it was obvious that she didn't need his bad back, bad knees, bad hips, or his get out of their way help. She had plenty of help from the moving men making eyes at her. Nonetheless, if his wife wasn't downstairs watching her, he'd be out there introducing himself and telling her about the neighborhood and about the neighbors while warning her about this one and that one. Yet, in the way that he felt about her now, he was her biggest sexual threat. Already spying on her through his binoculars, what would he do tonight when she was hopefully and shamelessly parading around in front of her big, bay windows without blinds, shades, or drapes while in her sheer nightgown, low cut bra and sexy panty, or naked?

He wondered why she chose this house and this neighborhood to move into when all the residents were older instead of younger and were getting hip and knee transplants instead of being hip and cool. Ready to pounce if it wasn't for his wife being home, wishing he wasn't so hindered from making his move, he watched her as if he was a cat watching a canary. She had nothing on the windows and the lights were all ablaze in the house. He hoped she was a nudist and lived like that so that he could watch her dress when sipping his coffee in the morning and undress while having a cocktail at night. Way better than imagining Adele topless, he'd love to masturbate over the sexy sight of her dressing and undressing.

He wondered her name. Someone like her had to have a beautiful name. Someone like her could never be named Debbie or Linda or Liz in the way that his wife ruined the image of that name whenever he met anyone else named Liz. For such a soft name, that evoked the beauty of Elizabeth Taylor, Liz was a hard sounding name now, as hard as she was bitchy and hard to please. Now whenever he heard the name Liz, the name evoked an image of a female Nazi storm trooper holding a riding crop and beating him into submission. It would be okay if he was into sub and Dom stuff but, bruising too easily, a bleeder, and a big crybaby when it came to pain, he wasn't.

Why couldn't he be married to someone like his new, beautiful, blonde neighbor, no doubt named Alexandria, Evangeline, Isadora, Juliana, Katarina, Magdalena, Ophelia, or Veronica? Surely someone so tall, so blonde, so beautiful, and so busty must have a 4 or 5 syllable name. Surely someone like her must have a name that takes longer to say while evoking the beautiful image of her as he admired her magnificence.




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 04



'I'm so pleased to meet you Alexandria. It's such a beautiful day Juliana. What shall we do today Veronica,' he imagined saying to her before getting into his Mazda Miata, no Chevrolet Corvette, no Ferrari California convertible and waving goodbye to his wife Liz before giving her the finger.

'Arrivederci Liz. Ciao!'

Driving off into the sunset with Evangeline, Isadora, Ophelia or whatever the Hell her name, the life he imagined having with his new neighbor was already so much better than the existence he's suffered with his wife.

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 05



Playing a sexy game of voyeurism and exhibitionism with his beautiful new neighbor, William watches Susan undress from his office window.

William leashed up his dog, Bosco, a chocolate brown lab. He decided to take him for a walk in hopes of meeting his new neighbor. He'd love to accidentally on purpose run into her. Still playing the name game while wondering what her name was, he needed to know her name. Knowing her name would help him to better masturbate over her later while imagining her naked. Before he could imagine having sex with her, he needed to know her name. He couldn't call her just hey you.

Although when he was younger and attending college dorm parties every weekend, he's had sex with more than one drunken woman that he didn't even know her name. Before the fear of AIDs, he had sex with so very many different women back then, when he was in college, without using a condom. He wondered where all those coeds were now, married with children, no doubt, and probably divorced and with their second or third husband while he was still enduring being married to his bitch of a wife Liz.

He wondered if he had impregnated one of those college coeds with his child and never knew. How would he know? A onetime drunken sex session, maybe his child, a part of him, was walking around that he never knew existed. Conceivably, quickly doing the math in his head, he could have a 40-year-old kid who never knew his or her Daddy. If this person was looking for him, surely, he could be found and he or she would have found him by now. He was just as lucky as he was glad that he never impregnated anyone but his wife. Nonetheless, he wondered if all of those women he went to bed with ever thought how different their life would have been with him in it in the way that he thinks how differently his life would have been had he married one of them instead of marrying Liz. Yet, none of those women, even in the sexy way they looked back then, were hotter than his wife looked then and his new neighbor looks now.

Quickening his pace to double back, he walked away from his house instead of walking in front of his house to cross the street. By walking the dog to the left instead of to the right or straight across, he'd loop back around to return from the other side of the street. Out of site of his spying wife and using the trees and the neighbor's shrubbery as his cover, once in front of his new neighbor's house, he'd have the moving van as his perfect cover to block Liz from seeing him returning the other way. Then, standing there while waiting for his neighbor to reappeared, in case she disappeared inside her house again, he'd have the moving van behind him to block his wife from seeing him making a drooling fool of himself.

He knew his wife was watching him. He could feel the heat of her stare. She was always watching him, especially when there were other women around. She knew he spent his time watching porn videos.

Being that nothing ever happens in this boring neighborhood, he suspected his wife was just as interested in his new neighbor as he was but for different reasons. His wife was nosy. She wanted to know everyone's business. Instead of being the vindictive bitch his wife was, he was kinder. He loved women in the way that his wife hated men. Hoping to see something of his new neighbor that he shouldn't see, preferably a down blouse, he was just horny.

As if he were a teenage boy trying to bump into a girl he liked, he's never been as eagerly excited, albeit nervous, to meet anyone as he was to meet his new neighbor. He was acting as if she was a celebrity and if, indeed, she was the porn star in that movie he had just watched, then, as far as he was concerned, she was his celebrity. Hoping she looked as good up close as she did from a distance, she was so beautiful, the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Moreover, no doubt with his imagination running away from him, she looked just like the woman on his porn video. Even if she wasn't the woman on the porn video, he could have fun imagining that she was.

Quickening his pace while hoping to catch her standing out in front of her house and before his wife spotted him coming up from the other way, he wanted to make their first meeting appear that it happened by chance instead of planned. Fated to happen, he imagined that it was kismet that he'd be the first neighbor she'd meet. Wanting his first impression to be a memorable one, he combed what's left of his hair before going out the door.

Should his new neighbor be watching him walk his dog, he walked with a quickness to his step to show her that he still had plenty of life in him for an elderly man of sixty-years-old. Even though everyone told him that he looked younger, fifty-something, sometimes he felt seventy-something. He decided to stop counting after he turned sixty. From now on, he'd rather not know how old he was.

Just as he rounded the corner and walked nearer to walk up from her side of the street, he spotted her from a distance. He watched her emerge from her house to stand on her front lawn. Transfixed on her shapely image as if she was a star stepping out on stage, he was intent on learning her name. More concerned with his need to meet her, he was oblivious to his dog's needs in needing to pee. Walking faster to catch her while she was still outside of her house, he pulled his dog along and didn't even give poor Bosco a chance to sniff anything and/or to relieve himself. As he approached her while watching the moving men taking a break before continuing to move her possessions inside, he hoped she'd stay there for just another minute for him to meet her.

The closer he came to her the more beautiful and sexy she was. Love at first sight, in the way that he was in love with Liz when he first saw her, he was in love with his new neighbor, whatever was her name. Playing the name game as he walked closer, he tried to guess her name. Samantha, Rebecca, Victoria, Veronica, yet none of the names were worthy enough of her beauty. Certainly, she must have a special name, an uncommon name, and a name that truly befits her beauty. He just hoped that she didn't have a stripper's or a porn star's name of Tiffany Crystal, Desiree, or Sasha.

If only he was twenty years younger and wasn't married, maybe he'd have a chance with her. If only he didn't have a bad back, bad knees, and sporadic bouts of erectile dysfunction, he imagined divorcing Liz to run off with Alexandria, Juliana, Katarina, Ophelia or whatever the Hell was her name. With a face and body like that, what difference did her name make? She could have any name and her name wouldn't matter, that is, so long as her name wasn't Elizabeth, Beth, or Liz. A name he used to love, he's grown to hate.

Besides, if she had a bad name, a name he didn't like, he'd give her a nickname, a beautiful nickname and a name more befitting her beauty. Certainly, it wasn't her name that made her beautiful. It was her face and her outrageously curvaceous body. For all he cared, she could have been named Ralph. For all he cared, she could have no name and he'd give her one.

"Hi," he said waving to her from a distance while suppressing the urge to call, yoo-hoo, while fearing that she'd disappear inside of her house again.

"Hi," she said turning to him and giving him a big smile.

"I'm William. I live across the street," he said pointing through the moving van to his house and to his wife hidden from view. "This is Bosco," he said looking down at his big goof of a dog.

"Hi, pleased to meet you. I'm Susan, Susan Jill Parker. Hi Bosco," she said squatting down to pet his dog. 

Susan. Her name is Susan. Now that he sees her up close, she looks like a Susan. He could live with that. He's always like the name Susan. Even despite Johnny Cash writing a song about a boy named Sue, she has a feminine name, Susan, somehow the name fit her.

Preferring the name Susan to Sue, Susan isn't his favorite name but he'd deal with that. More focused on her than on her name, he only wished she was wearing a short skirt. If he had a choice, he'd prefer seeing more of her leg than more of her jeans. If she was wearing a short skirt, in the way that she was squatting with her knees so spread to pet Bosco, he'd have the perfect view of her panties from where he was standing. Then, he thought, with so many young women enjoying being free, maybe she doesn't wear panties. Nonetheless, whether she wears panties or not, when she stood and leaned forward to rub Bosco's big head, he had a clear down blouse view of her abundant cleavage and sexy bra.

'Wow, she has a rack and this is the perfect view,' he thought to himself. 'I'm really going to enjoy living across from this new neighbor.'

He took this as his opportunity to stare at her while she paid attention to his dog. Even having the same first name, from every angle she looked just like Susan, the sexy actress in his porn movie. Something he was so looking forward to seeing, he'd have to see her naked, of course, for him to tell if this Susan was really that Susan.

Now that he knows her name, he was happy. Her name is Susan and Susan Jill Parker was music to his ears. Even if her first name only had two syllables, her whole name, Susan Jill Parker, had five syllables. He couldn't imagine a name more perfect than that, unless she was his wife, Mrs. Susan Jill Fielder. Wow.

'William Scott Fielder, do you take Susan Jill Parker as your lawfully wedded wife? I do,' he imagined himself saying to the Reverend in his head as if he was standing at the altar.

"Hi Susan Jill Parker," he said enjoying slowly saying her name while shaking her soft hand and allowing the image of her beauty to engulf him in sexual passion for her.

After watching so very many porn films of her as the star, he knew she was the same Susan he had watched on his big screen dozens of times. He already knew every square inch of her perfect body. He couldn't even begin to count how many times he's masturbated over watching her act and play her part. If it was up to him, he'd give her an Academy Award, an Oscar, an Oscar of Porn. Wishing it looked more like an Oscar than a bowling trophy, he'd give her Adult Video News award, an AVN. She was his Jenna Jameson.

As soon as he touched her hand, he wanted her and had to have her. Just by the mere touch of her hand, he imagined her hand stroking his cheek before wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling his head down and forward to her to kiss him. As if he was acting with her in a porn movie, just by the mere touch of her hand, he imagined her holding his erect Cialis induced cock before stroking him to an even harder erection. Then when he awakened from his sexual fantasy of her masturbating him, not the first impression that he wanted to make, he looked down at Bosco peeing on her pant leg. 

"No! Bad dog! Bad Bosco! That's bad," he said pulling his dog away from her when the dog tried humping her other leg.

"Oh my," she said laughing.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll pay for new jeans," he said wishing she'd invite him inside to help her out of them.

'Maybe you should remove your panties too,' he imagined saying to her, 'just in case some of Bosco's urine splashed up through your pants and onto your panties or onto your pussy, if you're not wearing panties.'

Not having seen a visible panty line, he suspected she wasn't wearing any panties.

"It's okay," she said with a laugh. "I love dogs but, not much into water sports, I don't like dogs peeing on me," she said laughing again and stepping back to push Bosco away when he started humping her again, this time her other leg.

'Not into water sports my ass. Liar, she's such a liar,' he thought.

He remembered her film, The Attack of Pee Pee Man where a man broke into her house and peed all over her while she was sitting in her bathtub taking a bath. Wow, that was such a hot scene when she stood from her bath naked to chase him out in the street. They just don't make movies like that anymore.

"No Bosco. Down. Bad dog," he said pulling the leash.

"It's okay," she said with a laugh. "He's not the first dirty dog who ever humped me and I'm sure he won't be the last dirty dog to hump me either," she said looking at him and making direct eye contact with him while giving him the eye.

She gave him the eye. His porn star of a dream women and his new neighbor just gave him the eye. Only, what did she mean by saying that he won't be the last dirty dog to hump her while giving him in the eye. Was she hinting that he may be humping her one day? He only wished. He'd loved to hump her before he died. 

"Not the first impression that I wanted to make meeting my new neighbor, I owe you a new pair of jeans," he said.

The image of taking her shopping and going with her in the dressing room while she tried on jean after jean filled his mind with lust for her. He imagined them having sex in the dressing room. Humping her hard against the dressing room door, he imagined customers and sales employees stopping to stare.

"Don't worry about the pants. I'll wash them. He must like my scent," she said leaning down to pat his big head while giving him another down blouse view of her bra clad breasts.

He liked her scent too. Even from this distance, without him invading her space by stepping any closer to her, she smelled like peaches. Not the first impression he wanted to make, he wished he could cum all over her, as Randy did in her movie, Cum Slut.

Instead of having his dog pee on her, he suddenly felt the urge to pee on her. He was so embarrassed by the inappropriately filthy thoughts he was suddenly having after just meeting her. After watching his dog pee, he had to pee too. Being that her pants were already ruined, he wondered if she'd mind him peeing on her other leg before humping her ass. If this was, indeed, the woman in the porn video, he's seen her do worse than that on camera.

"It was nice meeting you," he said taking his dog home.

Leave it to the frigging dog to leave his mark and ruin his chance of him leaving his mark on her with some witty conversation and funny repartee. Now instead of remembering him as her suave and funny neighbor she'll remember him as the man who's dog peed on her. Leave it to the dog to want to hump her leg. Only, if she was in his life, he'd be humping more than just her leg. He'd be humping her pussy and her mouth. Wishing he was as forwardly aggressive as his dog, the dog was the only one who got what he wanted in that brief exchange.

As soon as he took his dog upstairs and ran to the bathroom to pee, he continued watching her from his second floor office window. Only, where is she? Where did she go? She's not out front anymore. How could she disappear so fast? Maybe she went inside to help direct the moving men where to put things. Figuring that she was hidden by the moving van, as if he was on a police stakeout, he waited while watching for her to reappear.

She wasn't there. She wasn't out there. Moving from window to window for different angle views, she was gone but where did she go? Then, movement in her second floor bedroom window caught his attention. There she was sitting on her newly moved in bed going through boxes. She was looking for something but what? Maybe after meeting him he made her horny. 'Fat chance of that,' he thought.

Maybe Bosco humping her leg made her horny and she was searching for her dildo and would masturbate while he watched. He loved to watch her finger her nipples while fingering her pussy before impaling her cunt with a dildo. Wouldn't that be hot to watch his new, sexy neighbor playing with herself with her big, black dildo. Finally finding what it was she was looking for, she pulled out a pair of jeans. 

"Oh, yeah, baby, change your peed on jeans right there in front of me where I can see you undressing," he said out loud for only himself to hear. "Take them all baby. Take them off."

As soon as he said that, she stood and started doing just that. Holding her jeans in hand while looking out her window to see who was out there and who could see her, she walked closer to the window to look down out at the sidewalk before looking directly across the street at his office window. As the voyeur he was, mesmerized by the sexy, hoped for exhibitionist sight of her standing there holding her jeans, he couldn't remove his eyes from her.

Would she dare change her jeans there in front of the window and in front of him? Why not? She changed her jeans while sitting in her car with the car door wide open. She already gave him a peek of her panty, when she pulled her jeans up beneath her short skirt. With her looking out her window at his window, did she know that he could see her? With her staring across the street at his house, did she know that he was watching her?

With the house across the way vacant and enjoying the view in the morning, he left his shade up and his drapes pulled to the side. Only, as exposed as she was, it was then that he realized that she could see him standing there staring at her while hoping that she'd give him a striptease show. Not wanting her to know that he was looking and not wanting to prematurely end the show and their game of voyeurism and exhibitionism, he took a step back and then another. Transfixed in place as if hypnotized by her about to undress, he stood there staring at her.

She was looking straight ahead. She was looking right at him. She was staring at him in the way that he was staring at her. Could she see him as clearly as he could see her? Definitely, if he could see her standing there not a hundred feet away, she surely could see him watching her.

Something he's never been aroused to do before, he was tempted to strip naked and give her a lewd and lascivious show of his cock in exchange for the hope that she'd give him a sexy, striptease show of her naked body too. If he knew she was into watching him as much as he was watching her, he'd love to masturbate in front of her while she watched. Nonetheless, something he thought had died in him years ago, already having a throbbing erection, she brought out the sexual lust in him. Maybe if he was twenty years younger he would strip naked and masturbate in front of his window but he didn't dare. This was his new neighbor. He'd never have a chance with her if she thought him a pervert by him flashing her his cock and masturbating.

As if he was an actor in one of her porn movies, he thought of her movie, Cock Flasher and the Virgin. The movie was about a man who showed up at her window every night to flash her his cock. You'd think she'd pull the shades not to see the man flashing her his cock but she never did. Then, with him masturbating in front of her window, she returned the favor and masturbated with him. The movie progressed to where they finally met, fell in love, and married. It was a wonderful movie with a happy ending. 

He watched her turn away from him to put her jeans down on the bed before turning to face him again and to peer out of her bedroom window. Was she looking for the movers? Was she checking to see if they could see her undress? Did she want to be seen undressing?

He watched her reached down to unbutton the top button of her jeans and unzip her pants while she stood there by the window looking out to the sidewalk below. In the way she was looking down, as if looking to see who was there, maybe she was hoping the moving men would see her. Maybe she's as much of an exhibitionist as he was a voyeur. Wouldn't that be great living across the street from an exhibitionist? He imagined all the sexy games they could play.

Not believing his eyes, finally standing somewhere at the right place and the right time, he leered at her while watching her wiggling out of her jeans. With the button of her jeans undone and her zipper down, as soon as she started pulling down her tight pants, he could see a bright white triangular piece of her panty. Only, 'Thank you Jesus,' he thought to himself when he saw her panties move down with her jeans.




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 05



Just as she was in her porn movies, her panties moved down far enough down for him to see that she was shaved bald. Not only did he get a view of her panties but also he got a glimpse of her pussy. Then, when turned away from the window to sit on her bed and to extricate her feet from her tight jeans, she gave him a great in between leg shot of her panty clad pussy.

'Oh my God,' he thought. 'She has spectacular legs. I wish I was there in between her legs licking her through her panties.'

She stood to put her feet in her jeans just as two moving men opened her bedroom door and barged in her bedroom. She turned to face them while wiggling her ass to pull up her jeans to her waist. He had the perfect view of her panty clad ass for a few seconds but the moving men had an unobstructed view of her panty clad pussy. Giving her their apologies, the moving men closed her door and she turned to face her window again while pulling up her jeans. When the men appeared down below they told their buddies what they just saw and gave one another high fives.

'Wow the moving men saw her in her panties too. Lucky bastards.'

He hoped that her undressing in front of her window was a prelude to what he could expect later. He hoped she didn't ruin his voyeurism or her exhibitionism by installing window dressing on the windows. He'd love to watch her undress every night and watch her get dressed every morning. He hoped she didn't ask the movers to move her bed. He liked it just where it was, nearly in front of her windows.

He imagined her undressing with the light on when getting ready for bed. He imagined staying up late to watch her sleep and waking up early to watch her get up. With her master bathroom in line with his office window and with her having a glass shower enclosure, he had a direct view of her showering, so long as she had a powerful fan to rid her shower glass of fog and so long as she left her bathroom door open. He imagined spending his days and nights masturbating over the sexy sights of her.

If she was the type of woman who walked around her house naked, then he'd walk around upstairs naked too. Tit and pussy for cock and balls, if she was going to show him her body than he was going to show her his body. If he had an erection just from the sexy sight of her panty, he couldn't imagine how excited he'd be seeing her naked body. He couldn't remember when he was as sexually excited last, not since his neighbor's son had that big, naked pool party.

Already a fan of his new neighbor as if he was hoping to watch a looping exhibitionism and voyeurism movie, he hoped that she enjoyed showing her body as much as he loved seeing her body. How cool would that be to live across the street from an exhibitionist? How cool would that be to be living across the street from the porn star that he imagined and suspected she was? Knowing it was nothing more than a sexual fantasy on his part, it would be his dream come true if she was an exhibitionist and porn star. Only, things like that never happened to someone like him.

Just as Susan left her bedroom to go back outside, he heard a noise upstairs in the spare bedroom. Liz was next door. What the Hell was she doing upstairs? The second floor was his domain. Always complaining about climbing stairs, she never came upstairs. She lived downstairs. Everything she needed was downstairs. There was nothing upstairs that she'd want, including him, and no reason for her to be upstairs.

Then he realized, unable to see her from her downstairs windows, was she watching her new neighbor too? Did she happen to see Susan's little striptease show too? Did she know that Susan was changing her pants without having any blinds, shades, or curtains on her windows? He imagined he'd have an earful from his wife especially after, no doubt, seeing him walk from across the street with the dog. She must know he's already met his new neighbor. Just as he knows she's nosy, he knows she must be dying with curiosity who their new neighbor is.

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 06



Waiting for her to undress, William watches Susan.

With the sunlight shining through her house, lighting her up and spotlighting her as if she's a stripper on stage about to strip naked at any moment, he'd rather spend his day watching her in her mundane life than watching her in porn movie. Preferring more to watch live this reality TV show of a glimpse in the everyday life of a porn star, with nothing else to see but for this, he's already seen all of her porn movies over and again. Much later, only stopping from his sexy surveillance of her to watch the news and those reality TV shows, the Bachelor, Survivor, and American Idol, filled with voyeuristic excitement, William spent his entire day watching Susan with the sexual anticipation that she may remove her clothes.

Susan, Susan, Susan, his life was filled with thoughts of Susan. Most of his day was spent as if watching a boring baseball game or watching paint dry when watching Susan do her little chores around the house. He couldn't wait to see down blouses of her breasts while watching her work in her garden or seeing her laying out in the hot sun while imagining her wearing barely nothing. Yet, every time he saw her after waiting several minutes to see her do something, anything at all, so glad that she moved in across the street from him, he felt rewarded and glad that he was watching her after all.

No matter what she was doing, even if she sat there quietly while reading a book, he just loved seeing her without her knowing that he was watching her. He imagined he was there in her life doing all the mundane and minutiae little things that an old married couple does and that he no longer enjoys doing with Liz. All that he missed having with Liz when she fell out of love with him, he imagined the conversations they'd have and the laughs they'd share. He imagined having sex with her in the way that he used to have with Liz.

"If there's such a thing as fan fever and if there's such a thing as love at first sight, then I love you Susan Jill Parker. I do. I really do," he said out loud for no one to hear while imagining her standing with him at the altar.

"Speak now if anyone objects to this marriage or forever hold your peace," he imagined the reverend saying while looking out over all who were in attendance.

"I object," came a voice from the back of the church. As if she was at his trial objecting to him receiving a life sentence for just thinking about divorcing her instead of receiving the death penalty, he imagined Liz standing to raise her hand in objection and to ruin his imagined marriage with Susan. "He can't marry her because he's still married to me," he imagined his wife saying to embarrass him in front of all of his friends and family.

Fuck. Watching Susan every minute, he forgot about his wife. Married longer than he's been single, how could he forget about her but, with Susan now in his life, he did? He wished she'd just go away so that he could be alone with Susan. He wished she'd suddenly turn into a cougar and satisfy her every sexual whim with the lawn care, 20-something-year-old man.

Susan, Susan, Susan, all that he thinks about now is Susan, Susan, Susan. With his mind filled with Susan, Susan, Susan, all that he wants is Susan, Susan, Susan. Is that too much to ask when he's at the end of his life with so few years left to live, (cough, hack, wheeze)? Essentially, being that he's no longer a young man and being that he's in his sixth decade of his life and of living, all that he has to look forward to is death. All that he fears now is the dread of dying. Theoretically, a man his age, he could die of a heart attack tomorrow or an embolism any second. So tragic, as if he's her Romeo and she's his Juliet, he could die, not at the hand of poison but by natural causes, without ever experiencing seeing Susan undress or without ever experiencing what it would be like to have sex with Susan.

His life is complicated by the two woman that he has in his life, one that he has but no longer wants and who no longer wants him, and the other that he doesn't have but yearns to have. Other than her knowing he's her neighbor, she doesn't know he exists. Walking the beach of some tropical island with Susan by his side, he'd be happy with her if she'd let him. Only, allowing his sexual fantasy to control his commonsense, how could she possibly be happy with him, an old man and a man old enough to be her father? No doubt, someone who looks like her would want someone her age, a little older, or even a little younger. She'd never settle for a man with a bad back, bad knees, and who experienced occasional episodes or erectile dysfunction. It's poetic justice that he was always raring to go when his cock suddenly wanted to take a nap. 

"Not now William Junior! Of all the times to fall asleep, you can't possibly be tired now when you should be sexually excited. Wake up you little bastard and stand up like the proud, wooden soldier I used to know you to be," he imagine shaking and quickly stroking his suddenly softening prick to semi erect attention.

As far as he was concerned, watching her walking from room to room to organize, unpack, and put things away was better than watching any porn video. If she was indeed that porn actress in his favorite porn videos and he truly believed she was, why watch her on his flat screen when he had her in a three dimensional view across from his house. Based upon her character, Susan, that she played in porn movies, and because her real name is Susan, he deemed watching her doing her typical, daily, little things was as if watching a non-erotic porn video. He's more than willing to watch her do nothing while waiting for the prelude of what he hoped would happen next, her removing her clothes.

Better than watching her having sex on DVD, whatever she was doing, whether unpacking a box while imagining her stripping off her clothes, he couldn't remove his eyes from her. Afraid he'd miss something, fascinated by everything she did, he couldn't stop watching her. With her being so beautiful and with him being so physically attracted to her, there was nothing and no one he'd rather see than her. After watching so very many pornographic videos with her as the star and after seeing her naked and having sex so very many times, he's masturbated over every square inch of her beautiful, naked body. Having imagined starring with her in one of her pornographic movies, he could easily fill in the sexual parts while watching her daily G rated activity.

As he matured from a horny, testosterone filled, young man to horny albeit sporadically impotent older man, he became more selective of his pornography. Too predictable with their stories and bored by most of them, now not just any porn film would do. No longer satisfied with just the explicit, sexual content, he wanted more of an erotic story with believable characters. Long before she was his dream woman, in the way that Shannon Tweed was then, when he was a much younger man, for the past ten years, Susan was his longtime, sexual fantasy woman and porn star.

Now with her living across the street from him, his dream come true, as if he was creating his own porn movie, maybe somehow, some day, and in some way, he could have an affair with her. Maybe somehow, some day, and in some way, she'd notice him in the way he noticed her. Maybe somehow, some day, and in some way, she'd be sexually attracted to him in the way he was with her.

Because she was so much younger than him and he was so much older than her, he seriously doubted she'd ever want him in the way that he always wanted her but, if nothing else, he could masturbate over her and over the sexual fantasies that he'd have about her. If nothing else, maybe unaware that he's watching her nor caring that he is, in the way she starred in so many porn movies, maybe she'd give him a live, voyeuristic show of her naked body while standing in front of her window. He'd love to see her naked in real life.

As if he was on police surveillance, an important stakeout of authorized overtime, and requested to watch a dangerous criminal, he sat there for hours staring at her from across the street. As if he was an insane patient confined to a mental institution, he chanted her name, Susan, Susan, Susan, as if he was Charles Manson and Susan was his minute by minute mantra. As if he was a dangerous prisoner forever locked away in a solitary confinement cell with nothing but a window, he imagined having sex with her even when he knew that having sex with someone who looked like her was an impossibility. As if he was an old man forgotten about in a nursing home that offered him little more than a room with a view of her bedroom window, he'd be happy with seeing that for the rest of his days while masturbating over the sexy thoughts of her dressing, undressing, and having sex with her. As if he was a stalker stalking a porn star celebrity, he watched her with lust from across the street.

He refocused his stare more on different parts of her body instead of on her face. He didn't want her to sense that she was being watched and that he was staring for her to turn to around to look his way, or worse, cover her windows to block his view. Instead of staring at her gorgeous face, he concentrated his leer more on her round, firm ass, her big, beautiful breasts, her slim waistline and flat stomach, and her shapely thighs that promised to lead his mouth, lips, tongue, fingers, and cock to nirvana, if only she'd let him. Not wanting to scare or startle her, he didn't want her to feel that he was an old, perverted man watching her, even though he was an old, perverted man watching her. Never thinking his life would come to this with him lusting over a woman young enough to be his daughter, somehow it did and somehow he is.

With his binoculars in hand and poised at the ready, should she strip naked in front of her windows as he hoped she would, he stayed positioned while holding them should he need them for close up views of her hot body. He wished he could take her picture or video her but fearing that she'd see the flash or spot the red light, he was content seeing her every curvaceous image with his own eyes and memorizing her every detailed movement. Not an easy feat to do, being that the chair was so bulkily heavy, it was worth the physical expenditure of effort and energy for the promised comfort of soft, warm, worn leather cradling his ass and hips. He carried his old, comfortable, red, leather chair closer to the window and to his table where he'd position his food and beverages while watching her.

When his legs started cramping and his back started hurting from sitting too long and when he tired from sitting in his red, leather chair too long, he'd switched to sitting in his soapstone brown, Herman Miller, Aeron, office chair to rock and swivel back and forth with the imagined image of her sitting naked on his lap. With her long legs wrapped around him, facing him while kissing him, he imagined her sitting on his cock while he cupped her naked breasts in his hands and fingered her nipples. A memory he'd love to have, he'd love to have sex with her in every room of his big house. He'd have a renewed appreciation for his house with the memories of Susan being naked in every room.

As if he was going on a camping trip, skipping supper, he used the time it would take for him to cook supper to raid the panty and refrigerator and carry up an armful of snacks along with his carafe of coffee. As if taking a commercial break during an important home team playoff game, dashing downstairs and running back upstairs so as not to miss anything, while Susan was in another part of her house and in a room where he couldn't see her, he readied himself to pull an all-nighter. If this was the closest that he could be to Susan right now, he was happy for the vision of her that would, no doubt, inspire all sorts of sexual fantasies of him with her later. Only, if he wished long enough and prayed hard enough, maybe a miracle would happen.

With the morning turning to afternoon and the light of day beginning to darken with the advent of night, making sure he had his lube and plenty of paper towels at the ready, as if he was watching her on video instead of in person, he couldn't wait to masturbate over her stripping off her clothes. If he had to, not wanting to take a bathroom break for fear that he'd miss something, he'd even use the portable pee pot he had when taking long trips in his car. He wondered if any of his other neighbors were watching her in the way that he was watching her. Nah, his neighbors are all old, then he thought with a laugh, with most of them the same age, his neighbors are as old as he is.

Besides, none of his neighbor's wives would allow their husbands the liberty to park themselves by their window to peep on their new neighbor in the way that his wife didn't care what in the Hell he was doing in his room. Sequestered in his den, once library, now office and makeshift bedroom to accommodate his voluntary separation from Liz, his living separately from his wife and with his new neighbor moving in across the street were the two best things that happened to him this year. Maybe his life is changing for the better after all. Maybe his next trip would be taking Susan to Vegas to have a theme wedding before having their Honeymoon at the Mirage or Bellagio.

Realizing when he thought about his neighbors being old, living in this old neighborhood with mature trees for thirty years, his neighbors were all his age with some a little younger and others a little older. Only, not taking care of themselves in the way he's done all of his life, they all not only looked older than he did but also acted older too. At 60-years-old, a young sixty at that, he didn't consider himself old, just aged and seasoned in the way of a fine cigar or single malt scotch. He still felt just as horny as he was at 30-years-old. Especially when it comes to sexual turn-on's, it's funny how some things never change. Loving that he was a voyeur, he still loved exhibitionistic women and now, hopefully having one living across the street from him, his life had finally taken a turn for the better. 

For him to be watching his new neighbor in the way he was, he felt as if he was a horny teenager again. He remembered that he used to watch the girl next door, Becky McAdams, when he lived with his parents as an 18-year-old student after having just graduated high school. As if two ships passing by one another on the ocean of exhibitionism and voyeurism, that summer, Becky had just graduated college and returned home and he was on his way to college in September. Instantly in love, he couldn't take his eyes off of her and he spent many sleep disturbed nights dreaming about and sexually fantasizing about her having sex with him.

Becky McAdams, he forgot all about her until now that Susan inspired his voyeuristic fantasies. A vision to behold, Becky was the most beautiful woman in the world, that is, until he met and fell in love with Liz. A twenty-two-year-old hottie, with long dark hair and big brown eyes, Becky was his best friend Dwayne's sister. He wondered where Dwayne was now. He wondered where Becky was now, married and divorced and fat from having children, no doubt. If only Dwayne knew that he was voyeuristically enjoying his sister, he'd be angry. Only, at the time, he didn't care. She was worth a beating from her brother for him to watch her strip naked. Fodder for his sexual fantasies, Becky was his long, hot summer masturbation material then in the way that he hoped that Susan would be his daily masturbation material now.

Giving him a real, sexy striptease show, Becky must have known he could see her dressing and undressing. With their houses right next door and just the width of the driveway away across, how could she not know that not only could he see her but also that he was looking and watching? For fear that she'd stop her show of exhibitionism, always walking around in the dark for fear that she'd know his bedroom was across from her bedroom, he never turned on his bedroom light.

She'd undress with her shades up and her light on while he watched and masturbated over her unbuttoning and removing her blouse, unbuttoning and unzipping her short skirt, unhooking and peeling off her C cup bra, and slowly pulling down her skin tight, white bikini panties. Oh my God, she was a sexual vision to behold and one that he so looked forward to seeing over and again every night. If it wasn't for the bright flash of his Polaroid, he'd take her nude picture to preserve the naked memory of her but not wanting to prematurely end the show, he didn't want to push his luck.

Towards the end of the summer with nothing to lose being that he was heading off to college and he'd probably never see her again, he started giving her a show too. He'd lay on his bed and with his big, hard prick in hand and masturbate with his bedroom light on and his shades raised high enough for her to see what he was doing. Every time he stripped naked and started stroking himself, she'd turn off her bedroom light. It was then he knew that she was watching him because the next night, leaving her light on when she crawled on top of her bed, she returned the favor. It was then that he wondered if she sexually lusted over him as much as he sexually lusted over her. 

After he finished masturbating himself, leaving her light on and her shades up, she stripped naked, laid on her bed, and masturbated in front of him too. Then, for the next week, as if they were porn twins, before he left for college, they masturbated together. Staring over at him, she'd play with her big tits and finger her nipples while rubbing her clit while he stared over at her and stroked his big cock. His sexual fantasy come true, having never experienced something like that before or since, he hoped to experience that now with Susan. He watched her orgasm and she watched him cum.

A time before the computer and the Internet, every night was the same show of her removing four articles of clothing and masturbating in plain view of him as he masturbated in plain view of her before, show over, she donned her nightgown and turned off her light to sleep. Every morning it was the same show with her standing within view of her bedroom window with her light on to strip naked to take her shower. After her shower, she'd walk around naked with a towel on her head as if she was a middle eastern woman wearing a turban. With a view of her ass and a view of the rest of her in her mirror, he'd watch her sitting at her vanity table naked to brush her hair. One hundred strokes, fifty strokes with her right hand and fifty strokes with her left hand. He imagined her stroking his cock in the way that she religiously stroked her long, brown hair.

In the way that Susan is now, Becky McAdams was his dream woman then. Yet with her his best friend's sister, with her being four years older than him, and with him being so sexually immature and naive, he never had the courage to ask her out. Duh! He was so stupid. An opportunity he always regretted not taking, in hindsight, he should have asked her out but didn't. If he had that opportunity again now, he would ask her out to dinner and sex afterwards. Just as he thought that, he wondered if Susan was his second chance. Maybe he shouldn't delay and ask her out for a drink or to lunch before someone else does. Shortly after he left for college, he heard that Becky married some big real estate developer who was old enough to be her much older brother. 

He wondered what time Susan went to bed. Hoping it wouldn't be a long night, feeling as if he was on police surveillance stakeout again, if he watched her all day today maybe he'd learn her schedule enough that he wouldn't have to keep watch on her 24/7 tomorrow. Only, he wondered if she had the same routine every day. He wondered what time she awakened to start her day. He wondered what time she showered. He wondered if she'd leave her bathroom door open while showering for him to see her washing her wet, naked body. Why wouldn't she? She's alone. There's no sense closing a bathroom door when she's alone and already has all the privacy she needs. So long as he doesn't see her taking a shit, he'd love to see her taking a shower.




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 06



As if watching her in slow motion, William watched Susan emptying boxes and organizing her place as if he was watching an artsy Andy Warhol movie. Nothing notably happened until evening when she came upstairs to go to bed. With no shades, no blinds, and no draperies on her windows, William was filled with voyeuristic anticipation. Is this it? Will she undress with the lights on and with nothing on the windows to save her modesty and spare her the indignity of him seeing her naked? Only, if she is, indeed, who he thinks she is, she has no modesty or dignity left to be saved after all the sexual situations and positions she's had in her porn movies.

Nonetheless, even though he's seen her naked a hundred times on his collection of porn DVD's, he couldn't wait to watch her undress. He couldn't wait to see her in her bra and panty before seeing her naked. He hoped she didn't close the door when she went in the bathroom to shower. A view that even Liz was denied from her angle, that is, should she still be watching her from the spare bedroom, so long as Susan didn't close the bathroom door, he had a direct view at her shower and he hoped she preferred showering to taking a bath. He'd love to watch her lather her naked body with soap. With her hands touching her everywhere he wished, imagined, and sexually fantasized touching her, he'd love to watch her rinse. Not missing a hole or a crevice, he'd lick her clean if he could. 

Thinking he was alone in his voyeuristic surveillance, should he want to pull out his cock to masturbate over all that he hoped he'd see, he heard Liz sneeze. She was upstairs in the spare bedroom again. Was she watching Susan again too, but why? Liz's imagined surveillance of Susan made him feel a little uneasy and creepy. Being that he's a horny, mature man hoping to see a beautiful young woman undress, it's understandable that he'd want to see Susan naked but why would his wife want to see Susan naked? Not ready to share Susan, especially with his wife, other than she was so very nosy, he wondered why she was there watching her too.

Now that Susan was getting ready for bed, was Liz as interested in seeing Susan undress and naked as he was? Why would she want to see that? Maybe she's turned lesbian in her old age. He laughed at the thought of his wife preferring to lick a pussy instead of sucking a cock. Nonetheless her newfound sexual preference, finally they were doing something together, watching while waiting for Susan to undress, albeit from different rooms.

To be continued... 



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 07



A striptease with a sexy surprise after is well worth the wait and the effort of watching.

Isolated for hours in his darkened office, William maintained his sexy surveillance of Susan from his office windows across the street from her. It was dark now and with Susan reading her book while resting on her bed with her bedroom light on, it was getting late. Even fully dressed, she was so lovely and so sexy. Even fully dressed, he wanted her as if she was naked. He imagined being there in bed with her and spooning her while reaching his arm around her to cup her big breast in his hand.

Past his bedtime, he wondered how much longer it would be before she undressed. He was tired and wanted to go to bed but after waiting this long for her to strip naked, he didn't want to miss anything for the sake of not waiting just a few minutes more. Soon to find out, so that he wouldn't have to sit and wait for hours every night, he wondered what time she normally got ready for bed.

He wondered if she'd strip off her clothes right there in front of him with the light illuminating her bedroom or would she turn off the light to undress in the dark. If she did turn off her light, with the moonlight entering from her uncovered windows, he wondered if it would still be light enough for him to see her hiding in the shadows of her bedroom while undressing. Maybe it's time he invested in a surveillance video camera aimed at her bedroom window. Maybe it's time he invested in a pair of pricy, night vision binoculars and a night vision telephoto lens for his camera. He'd love to see her lit up in a dim, light green light while undressing and thinking that no one can see her.

Maybe instead of undressing in front of him, she'd spoil his fun and elect for the privacy of the bathroom and, denying him so much as a peep, would close the bathroom door to undress. Whether she undressed in the bright light of her bedroom, turned off the light, or disappeared behind a closed door in the bathroom, she still had to sleep in her bed with no blind, shade, or curtain obstructing his view. He'd still see her in bed sleeping. If he had to remain up all night, at least he'd have the sexy pleasure of watching her moving around in bed during the night. Definitely from the view he had from his office windows and because of where her bed was positioned and angled to face her bedroom windows, he could watch her sleeping while dreaming of him, he only wished. 

While wondering about her sleeping and looking so sexy, he wondered if she snored. Surely, someone so beautiful couldn't possibly snore. Aside from snoring, he wondered if someone like her burped or farted or if she was too beautiful to do any of those. With both of them snoring, he burps all the time and Liz farts all the time. In the way that Liz sometimes forgets to flush the toilet, he couldn't imagine someone as sensuous and sexy as Susan taking a big, steamy dump in the toilet.

Realizing that she's human just like him, albeit exquisitely beautiful, shapely, and sexy, she's just another woman of the billions of other women on the planet. Yet, so enamored with her, possibly in love with her, he afforded her special privileges when thinking of her as no ordinary person and doing ordinary things. One in a billion, an extraordinary woman, she was special. No one that he knows looks like her, moves like her, and talks like her. She was one of a kind.

Excited by the sexual anticipation of watching her undressing, he wondered if she slept in the nude or in a sexy nightgown. Maybe she wore pajamas. Wishing he had night vision binoculars and/or a night vision telephoto lens for his camera again, should she turn off her bedroom light, soon to find out perhaps, he wondered how much he could see of her in the dark without having the aid of night vision. He wondered which other of his neighbors could see her but, other than the view his wife had of her from their spare bedroom next door to his office, his neighbors didn't have the exact angle and view of her bedroom that they solely enjoyed.

In case she failed to give him a sexy striptease show tonight, hoping she'd kick the covers off of herself during the night, he could get up early enough to watch her awaken and to see how much of her he could see. Better than watching her in a porn movie, feeling as if he was subscribing to Big Brother after hours TV on his computer, he wondered what time she got out of bed. He wondered if she'd take her shower with the bathroom door open so that he could watch her washing her shapely and so sexy, naked body. He wondered if she had a job other than making porn movies.

Obviously bored while waiting for the sexy show and by the lack of naked action of his sexy neighbor, he continued asking himself idiotic questions without answers. He wondered how many porn movies she's made in a year. He wondered how many porn movies she's made in total. He wondered how much she earns for each one. Then, getting horny just watching her reading while still fully dressed, he wondered how many men she fucked and sucked to earn enough money to not only support herself but also to buy this big house in this exclusive neighborhood. He figured she must have drank a bucket full of cum to afford this piece of expensive real estate.

Not having very long to wait for the answer to many of his questions, he couldn't believe his luck when she put aside her book, sat up on the edge of her bed, and started to unbutton her blouse while facing him. Figuring that she would and glad that she didn't, she didn't turn off her bedroom light. Doesn't she know that he can see her? Maybe she knows he's watching her but just doesn't care. Being that she's a porn star, duh, maybe she's an exhibitionist and likes showing her naked body and enjoys being watched.

She's such a slut but he was so glad that she was. With the thoughts of posting it to the Internet, he so wanted to video her but, fearing that she'd spot the red light of the video camera, he didn't want to prematurely stop her sudden striptease and ruin her voyeurism of her. It's one thing for her to strip for him but quite another thing for her to be recorded and possibly have her naked imagine posted all over the internet. Moreover, if this was a sexy prelude to what was to come, not wanting him to think that he was perverted, he didn't want to ruin his chances of seeing her naked night after night. Better off hiding in the shadows of his darkened office after sitting there for hours staring across at her bedroom window than to be exposed for the pervert that he is. An understatement, he enjoyed watching her undress finally.

Button by slow blouse button, he watched her unbuttoned her blouse while she looked up at the ceiling as if she was deep in thought. An oxymoronic question, much like having the brain capacity of a dumb model or a dimwitted beauty contestant, he couldn't help but wonder what does a porn star think about when lost deep in thought. Surely, too deep for her, she's not thinking about global peace, global warming, politics, or the economy. Maybe she's thinking about what to wear tomorrow or about her diet and her exercise plan. Maybe, when he introduced himself to her earlier, he made an impression on her and she's thinking about meeting him again.

Surely, his dog made enough of an unforgettable impression on her legs by peeing on one leg and humping her other leg. Maybe she's thinking about his dog or getting a dog of her own to pee on him. For sure, too much to fathom, there's only so much information that one so beautiful can process without getting a headache before falling asleep, snoring, farting, and burping from the anxiety and stress of thinking too much. So as not to interrupt her beauty rest, it's better that she doesn't tax herself to think too much.

"Just stay there and look pretty, sexy, and slutty, while stripping off your clothes," he said out loud while watching her undress. "Just show me your sexy body Susan."

Only, when he met her, just before his dog peed on her, she didn't appear stupid or dimwitted. She seemed quick witted and intelligent, as she portrays her characters in her porn movies. Never playing the role of a ditsy blonde, she always plays the articulate and intelligent woman, the heroine. Maybe she's not the typical beauty queen, model, and porn star after all. Maybe she has more intelligence and deep thinking than he credits her for having. Maybe she's even a college graduate with an advanced degree but if she did have a college degree, then why is she making porn movies?

A man's world and tough going for a woman to make it in films, even pornographic films and especially for a woman as beautiful as she is, maybe, duh, she makes the dirty movies for the money. He wondered again how much a porn star made. Jenna Jameson did very well and is very rich. Maybe Jenna is just an abnormality where, typically, the only ones earning the biggest share of the pie are the producers and directors and not the actors and actresses.

Maybe being that she's made so very many porn movies, she produces them and/or directs them now. Maybe she's made enough money to have her own production company and to make her own pornographic movies with her as the porn star. Susan Jill Parker Productions, he could see her name in lights. Maybe, after the movie is released from playing in the cinemas, she gets residuals, distribution fees, and/or worldwide rights. For her to buy that expensive house across the street from him, maybe she has a much bigger piece of the porn movie pie that he thinks.

Wishing he was there in her bedroom with her but watching her from his office window was the next best thing, he watched her unbutton her blouse and flay it open. As if seeing her for the first time, even after watching her dozens of times on his big screen, the excitement of seeing her long line of cleavage, her bra, and the overflow of her breasts bursting from her bra instantly and sexually excited him. Then, when she stood to unbutton and unzip her tight jeans, he watched her slide and wiggle out of her skin tight pants to push them down to her ankles. He saw her bikini panties in the way that he remembered the moving men seeing her in her panties when they opened her bedroom door unannounced and without knocking first.

Now exclusively thinking about her panties and bra, he wondered where she bought her underwear. Appearing as if they were custom made to fit her exquisite body, her panties and bra looked expensive. He wondered if she bought her lingerie at Victoria's Secrets or had them custom made for her shapely body. He'd love nothing better to do than to go lingerie shopping with her for panties and bras.

Giving him a nice view between her shapely thighs of her panty clad pussy and panty clad ass, he watched her turn, bend, and pose before sitting on her bed to extricate her feet from her jeans. His favorite outfit of choice, he loved seeing a woman in her underwear before seeing her naked. A gross understatement about seeing her in her underwear, she had sexy lingerie. She had the amazing body of a fit model, a lingerie model, or a swimsuit model. Yet, a porn star actress has special skills that a fit model, a lingerie model, and a swimsuit model may or may not have. Porn star actresses suck cock, lots of cock and fuck a multitude of men. He wondered how many men she's had sex with again while imagining her in bed naked and screaming from an orgasm as she does in all of her porn movies.

Definitely, if he didn't know she was a porn star, he'd think she was a model or an actress, when in reality, she is an actress of sorts. Perhaps she's wasting her time and talent as a porn star actress and should be a model or a commercial spokeswoman for some beauty product. At about 5'9" tall, she's certainly tall enough to model, maybe not for runway but tall enough for print modeling. Although for her to afford such a fine house, maybe she earns more than a model.

Maybe as a divorce settlement, an ex-husband bought her the house. Just as she looked like a woman who'd play a man for money, beginning to look a little fucked over in the way she's been around the block one too many times, she looked like a woman who's been married two or three times. In the way that men have used women over the ages, she looked like a woman who's used men to advance her career with opportunities and fatten her bank account with divorce settlements. Nonetheless who she was, what she did, or how much she earned, never has he seen a woman so beautiful and, after watching her in so many porn movies, to see her live and in person while standing there in her underwear was a sexual fantasy come true.

"Pinch me, I'm dreaming," he said for no one to hear. "I can't believe I'm watching this."

As if she was playing a sexy character in one of her porn movies, he watched her parade around her bedroom in her bra and panty. Walking back and forth in front of her bedroom windows, he watched her unpack more boxes to put more things away and organize her closet and drawers before she retrieved her nightgown from her dresser drawer. That's one question answered. She doesn't sleep in the nude or wear pajamas. She wears a nightgown. No doubt, being that she's a porn star with a sexual image to maintain in case there's a fire and she needs to be rescued, she must wear a sexy nightgown. He liked nightgowns and he couldn't wait to see her in her nightgown but even more exciting than seeing her in her sexy nightgown was to see her naked while undressing to don her sexy nightgown.

As if there was a drum roll going off in his head, he watched her reach around behind her to unhook her bra. His brain told his eyes that he was about to see her tits. Having plenty of time to ponder such important things before she removed her bra, he wondered if it was the other way around with his eyes telling his brain that he was about to see her tits. He figured, in the way of a five alarm fire ringing in his head that he was about to see her tits, the information being processed between his brain and his eyes was instantaneous, especially when it came to seeing someone who looks as good as she does topless.

No matter whether it was his eyes telling his brain or his brain telling his eyes that he was about to see her tits, in one quick swoop, her bra was off and her big tits were right for his horny eyes to see. Damn she has big, beautiful boobs. Perfect areolas, and big nipples, her tits are so shapely. He wish Liz had tits like Susan's tits. Definitely, now that he's seen her tits, as if he's a coroner, a forensic criminologist, or an undertaker, after having seen her breasts so very many times before in so very many porn movies, he could easily identify her by her boobs. Even after having seen her tits so very many times in all of the porn movies he's watch of her, he never tires of seeing her big tits. He loves her tits.

As if she knew he was looking and to give him a better view of her topless body, she walked to her bedroom window. Leaning forward with her hands palm down on her window sill, she stood there looking out at the street before looking across the way at his darkened window. Did she know that he was watching her? Did she know that anyone out walking their dog could see her or maybe after being naked so many times in so many pornographic movies she didn't care? Could she see him standing there in the dark watching her in the way that he could see her standing in the light looking out over the neighborhood before looking across at his unlit window?

As if he was a cop on stakeout watching a dangerous criminal, did she sense he was there watching? Is that why she walked to the window topless? Of course she knows he's watching her for her, how could she not know? For her to be undressing with the light on in her bedroom and standing in front of her undressed windows topless. He wondered, in addition to seeing her in her sexy underwear and seeing her topless, if she was going to give him even more of a sexy show?

As if he couldn't see her, he watched her yawn and stretch before removing her panty. Still standing by the uncovered windows of her bedroom, she showed him her shaved pussy that had just a small tuft of hair to prove that she was a natural blonde. As if she was an sculpture's rendering carved in flesh tone stone, she had an amazing body in person that even the camera couldn't capture to do her justice on the big screen. With big, beautiful boobs, a flat, toned stomach, long, shapely legs, and a gorgeous face, she was everything he wanted in a woman. In the way that John Voigt made Angelina Jolie his beautiful daughter as her biological father, he couldn't have made a better woman if he made Susan himself.

"Wow!"

Recalling her in some of her old, porn movies, pretending that he was a porn star too, he'd love to hold her naked body in his arms while kissing her. He'd love to feel her big tits while fingering her nipples. He'd love to reach down to finger her wet pussy before pushing her back on her bed and spreading her legs to finger her while licking her. He recalled all the lucky porn star actors and actresses that had their sexy way with her. He wondered what it would be like to mount her and to make love to her before fucking her. He wondered what it would feel like for her to stroke him before sucking him. He wondered what it would feel like to feel his cock deep inside of her while humping her.

Then, he wondered about his wife. Having been so preoccupied with Susan, he forgot all about his wife. He wondered if Liz was still there in the spare bedroom watching Susan parading around her bedroom naked. He tiptoed to his office/bedroom door to listen. With one eye watching Susan and his ear pressed to his bedroom door, he listened for his wife.

She was still there. He could hear her. He heard her moving around, no doubt moving around trying to get a better view of Susan but he had the best view of her from his office window. With her having the rest of the house, this room was his and he'd be damn if he was going to give up this room, especially now that Susan was across the way, so that his wife could have a better view of his beloved Susan.

"Fuck her," he said under his breath of her not to hear. "The king of my castle, albeit segregated and isolated to a small room of this big house, this is my house."

Now naked, jiggling and bouncing her natural breasts and sashaying her perfectly round butt, Susan paraded around her bedroom. Looking at her naked body in the mirror, she turned one way before turning the other and before sucking in her stomach, as if she had to do that. She had an amazing body, the best body he's ever seen. She had the perfect body of an Olympian athlete, a beauty pageant contestant, or for the porn star that she was.

With a view of the naked back of her and the vanity mirror giving him a view of the naked front of her too, he watched her sit naked at her vanity table to remove her makeup and brush her beautiful, long, lush, blonde hair. In the way he used to brush Liz's beautiful dark hair, he wished he was standing there to brush her beautiful hair. Then, opening a drawer in her vanity, he watched her retrieve something and carry it over to the bed. Still naked, ignoring her nightgown that she placed on her bed earlier for the comfort of being naked and for whatever it was that she placed on the bed beside her, she reclined back and angled and positioned her body to get comfortable. Able to see her all at once, he had the perfect, naked view of her. He wondered how much Liz could see of her from her angle.

As if wishing her to do so, his sexual fantasy come true, he couldn't believe it when she started touching herself. Just as if he was watching her in a live porn movie, she was feeling herself, fondling herself, and touching herself where he wished he was feeling, fondling, and touching her. Feeling her big breasts with one hand, she was fingering her erect nipples, while rubbing her clit with her other hand in the way that he wished he could feel her big tits, finger her erect nipples, and rub her clit. He wondered if she knew that he could see her. How could she not know? She was right there. Obviously, she's giving him a show. If only she knew his wife was watching the show too, he wondered if she'd continue. With all the lesbian scenes she's done in her movies, maybe she's bi-sexual.




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 07



If only he had been exposed to cosmic rays in the way of Mister Fantastic, Rubber Man, Reed Richards, of the Fantastic Four and had longer arms, he could reach out and touch her. He wondered if she knew that he was watching her. How could she not know? He wondered if she was purposely teasing him by giving him a sexy masturbation show. Absolutely she was. Whatever she was doing and the reason why she was doing it, he didn't care. He was enjoying her sexy show of exhibitionism and masturbation.

In all the years he's been watching porn videos and in all the porn videos he's watched, he's seen hundreds of women masturbate themselves but he's never seen a woman masturbate herself in person in the way he was watching and seeing Susan, his dream woman, masturbating herself now. Married to his wife for more than 30 years, he's never even seen Liz masturbate herself and she's never seen him masturbate either. Off limits and taboo, masturbation was something that they were never comfortable discussing, that is, possibly until now that they were both watching Susan masturbating herself.

With the hundreds of men that she's, no doubt, had sex with, he wondered why such a gorgeous porn star would feel the need to self-pleasure herself. If she was horny, no doubt, she could just pick up the phone and call any one of her leading men. She could invite him over for Liz to watch him with her. Boy, wouldn't that be a show that would land him in divorce court. Then, he wondered, maybe all the men she had sex with never cared enough about her to give her an orgasm. Maybe they were just acting, weren't into her, or, perhaps, were even gay. For sure, if he was with her now, he'd take care of all of her sexual needs with his hands, his fingers, his mouth, his lips, his tongue, and his cock. 

Now that he knows that Liz is watching Susan masturbate herself too, he wondered if Liz would welcome a conversation about masturbation. Only, first, they'd have to broach the subject of her watching Susan in the way that he was watching Susan. As much as he wanted to confess to Liz that he saw Susan strip naked before masturbating herself, he wondered if she'd admit to watching her strip naked and masturbate herself too. More normal for a man to be a voyeur than it is for a woman, he wondered why Liz was suddenly interested in watching a naked, albeit beautiful woman masturbate herself. Maybe, just as he found it sexually exciting to watch Susan masturbate, she did too. Now he wondered if Liz was masturbating herself while watching Susan masturbate herself. 

Then, with masturbation toys in hand, he watched Susan use a vibrator on herself. Placing the vibrator to her nipple, she teased that one out first before teasing the other nipple out too. Then, moving the vibrator to her pussy, she played with her cunt in the way he wished he could play with her cunt too. With her legs spread and her fingers buried inside of herself, he watched her arch her back and open her mouth as if she was having a screaming orgasm. Happy that he could see her and watch her, he wished he could hear her too.

Then, she went for the big gun, a black dildo, the size of a small club. Giving him a real, sexy show, he watched her stroking the black dildo in her hand as if she was stroking the big, hard cock of a black man. Then, as if she had a black man who left his cock behind, she took the dildo to her lips before inserting deep it in her mouth. Just as she did in her porn movies, she was sucking a big, black dildo. Wishing she was sucking his cock instead, he watched her move the dildo down to her pussy. First teasing herself by sliding the dildo along her clit and pussy lips, he watched her insert the dildo inside of her. Inserting the dildo deeper in her cunt, better than any porn movie he's seen, he watched her fucking herself with the dildo. 

Pulling, twisting, and turning her nipples with one hand, he watched her fucking herself with that big, black dildo in her other hand. He watched her getting more and more excited. Unable to control himself, he pulled his cock from his pants and started stroking himself. If she was having an orgasm now while exposing herself to him with the knowledge that he was no doubt watching her, then he wanted to have an orgasm too while watching her.

Stroking his prick with his hand to her fucking herself with the dildo, unable to stop himself from doing so and hoping he didn't ruin things between them, if she didn't know he was there watching her, he turned on his office light. Just as he's seen every naked part of her, tit, ass, and pussy for cock, he wanted her to see his cock. He wanted her to see him masturbating in the way that he was watching her masturbating. As if his office light was a lighthouse beacon signaling her to look and to watch him playing with himself, no doubt, in the way that she wanted him to watch her playing with herself, she turned her head to watch him masturbate himself too. Not missing a beat, she continued watching him jerk off while she continued fucking herself with that damn dildo. 

As if he was a horny teenager masturbating and exposing himself to his neighbor for the first time, he exploded a volume of cum across his office while she screamed her orgasm. He wondered if her watching him masturbate had anything to do with her have a second orgasm. Now done, he stood there with his erect cock dangling from his pants. Only, instead of her looking at him and his dangling cock, she appeared to be more interested with the spare bedroom window. He wondered what Liz was doing to get Susan's attention.

It wasn't until he saw a light beneath his door and heard something coming from the guest bedroom that he put his cock away and zipped his pants. At first wondering what the muffled noise was, quickly putting two and two together, he recognized the sound of Liz softly whimpering instead of loudly moaning and having a quiet orgasm. Being that she's always been a real screamer and has always been so very loudly vocal when getting off, she must have had her hand over her mouth not to scream. He couldn't believe that his wife masturbated to Susan's sexy show too. Just as he got off by watching Susan masturbate herself and exposing himself to her, so didn't his wife get off masturbating herself to an orgasm while exposing herself to Susan too.

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 08



Every night Susan, William, and Liz masturbate together.

Every night for the next few weeks it was the same sexy show with Susan slowly and seductively stripping off all of her clothes with the bedroom light blazing and with her shamelessly exposing her naked body to William and to his wife, Liz. With a cast of one, it was if she was making a live porn movie in her bedroom just for her neighbors to see. She'd walk in her bedroom and undress, then once naked she'd mindlessly walk around her room while continuing her naked show from all sides. As if an actress on stage in a one woman show, never looking at the camera, she never directly looked at her audience that stood beyond her bedroom windows across the street.

She acted as if she didn't even know that William and Liz were there watching her but of course she knew they were both there watching her from their darkened rooms. How could she not know they were hiding in the dark while watching her? With both of them excited enough by her nightly show to masturbate with her, they watched her every night. No doubt, especially after they turned on their lights, just as she now could see them naked, she knew that they could see her naked. 

Slowly unbuttoning her blouse in the same way she did the first time he saw her undress, one slow button at a time and stopping for them to see what each unbuttoned buttoned revealed before continuing, she exposed her sexy bra and cleavage to William and to his wife, Liz. So womanly shapely, she had such a beautiful body, the best body he's ever seen. As if driving a red Ferrari convertible on a curvy, mountain road, he never tired of seeing her sexy striptease. He never tired of seeing her naked.

Every day, as if she had a panty, bra, and shoe fetish, she wore different bras, panties, and high heeled shoes. With an array of every color and every style, he wondered how many bras, panties, and high heeled shoes she had. For her to wear a different one every day, she had a lot. Giving him her own version of Victoria's Secrets Show, albeit without the angelic wings but with Devil's horns instead, Susan gave William an Liz her Susan Secrets Show.

Typically she wore jeans or a short skirt and every day he'd watch her wiggle her shapely ass out and extricate her legs from her tight jeans. When wearing a skirt, he'd watch her unbutton, unzip and, as if her skirt was a curtain positioned over a work of art, he'd watch her drop her short skirt to expose her panties. Then, as if her stripping was just the teasing foreplay appetizer to excite him and his wife before she climbed on her bed to excite herself by masturbating, she conspicuously paraded around her room in her sexy lingerie before stripping herself naked.

A sexy, sexual fantasy sight to behold, he loved seeing Susan in her sexy bra and bikini panty. As if she was a lingerie model or a fit model instead of a porn star, as if her lingerie was molded to her curves and painted to her body, she had the body to wear the small pieces of silk, satin, and cotton that covered her good parts and pieces. Teasing them, in the way she blatantly showed her body without showing all of her body all at once, seeing her in her underwear was such a thrilling tease and an erotic prelude of what was to come next when she'd strip naked and when she'd climb on her bed to masturbate.

Obviously proud of her shapely body in the way that she strutted and sashayed around her bedroom. Sometimes, as if preoccupied in thought, she reminded him of an absentminded Victoria Secrets model but, unless they were alone in their bedroom or with their man or woman, Victoria Secrets models didn't strip naked but Susan did. Just when he could no longer stand the teasing and he couldn't wait to see her naked body again, she'd reach around behind herself and unhook her bra. As if she was on stage and her audience stood sat within the darkened theatre, turning to face the window but looking up at the ceiling as if she was lost in thought, she'd remove her bra one, slow, sexy bra strap and bra cup at a time. Better than any striptease show he's ever seen, no wonder why she's a star, albeit a porn star.

She had wonderful tits and the best breasts he's ever seen. So big, so shapely, and so high up as if she was a teenaged virgin instead of a forty-year-old woman, the years have been kind to her. Definitely, she looked ten years younger than what was written in her biography on her Internet profile. An orphan abandoned by her prostitute mother, mired deep in sexual abuse, she started her life lost. No wonder why, instead of going to college, getting married, and having children, she turned to pornography, the darker side of life instead.

If only Liz would allow him to adopt Susan and maybe she would being that she was next door watching her from the spare bedroom in the way he was watching her from his office too. As a sixty-year-old man, if only he could open his doors and his heart to a forty-year-old woman, he'd love to adopt her. Never into incest before, imagining that if she was his grown, adult, adopted daughter, he'd be into incest now. Only solely because of the sexual the reasons why he wanted to adopt her, nothing more than a tax deduction, his adoption of her may not be accepted by any reputable adoption agency.

He wondered if she had any cosmetic surgery done. Everyone in her business has had some kind of reconstructive enhancements done to their face and/or body but she looked all natural, especially her big tits. He imagined himself touching, feeling, fondling, and caressing her big, perfect breasts before fingering her hard nipples. He'd love to feel her tits and suck her nipples. He'd love to slip his cock between her tits and fuck her cleavage while she leaned down to take him in her mouth to suck him.

As if she was unwrapping something exquisitely expensive and she was, he watched her slowly peel down her panty to expose her shaved pussy that just had a small enough tuft of blonde hair to show that she was a natural blonde. Twirling circles with his finger with her blonde pubic hair, he imagined fingering her tuft of blonde pubic hair before fingering her pussy while French kissing her. He imagined pushing her back on her bed and spreading her legs wide to lick her while fucking her with his fingers. Having watched her faking orgasms on his big screen, he wondered what she sounded like in person when she had a real orgasm.

He imagined fingering and licking her pussy before fucking her pussy. After being with so very many men in her porn movies, he wondered if her pussy was still tight. Maybe because she's had sex with so very many men, she had to have a surgical procedure done, a vaginal rejuvenation, to make her feel as if she was a virgin again. Tight or loose, without question or reservation, he'd fuck her. As far as he was concerned she was his dream woman.

As if she was Lady Godiva sitting upon her horse, he watched her sitting naked at her dressing table to brush her long, lush, blonde hair. In the way of the Grimm Brothers' fairy tale Rapunzel letting down her long, blonde hair for the Prince to scale her tower walls, he imagined himself being lost in her tresses while scaling her beautiful body. Smelling the imagined fresh fragrance of her hair, he'd love to bury his nose in her hair while feeling her tits. He'd love to put a hand behind her blonde, pretty head while she sucked his cock.

As if her hair was a Heavenly waterfall cascading down and softly falling in his pool of sweet, sexual sweat, he'd loved to feel her long hair collect on his chest while she was on top of him and humping him while he was humping her. As if her blonde hair was the icing on the cake and her unbelievable body was the most delicious pastry he could ever eat, she was his decadent dessert that stiffened his cock. Something that he thought would never happen but with her now living, stripping, and masturbating across the street from him, he longed she'd satisfy his hunger for her by having sex with him.

He watched her stand from her dressing table to open her drawer. She collected her toys, two handfuls of them, and carried them to her bed. With vibrators and dildos hidden in nearly every drawer in her home, seemingly she had as many dildos and vibrators as she had panties, bras, and high heeled shoes. With her collection of panties, bras, high heels, and toys, she could open a sex store, Susan's Sexy Secrets. He watched her climb on her bed, get comfortable and, with her pussy aimed at her bedroom window and his office window, spread her legs in anticipation of pleasuring herself with her finger before pleasuring herself with her toys.

"Here we go! Showtime!"

As if so chosen to watch a special striptease show and now a masturbation show, standing there in the dark with their lights off, William and Liz touched themselves while watching Susan undressing and exposing herself to them. They waited for their turn to undress and expose their naked bodies to her before the three of them started masturbating together. As soon as she climbed on her bed, that was their cue to turn on their lights and strip naked in front of Susan in the way that she had stripped herself naked in front of them. It was so erotic to strip naked and masturbate in front of a strange, beautiful woman and even hotter knowing that your wife was masturbating over the same woman at the same time but from a different room too. If only the three of them could get together in one room, how hot would that be?

As far as William was concerned, it would have been weird for him to masturbate in front of Liz in the way he was eagerly excited to masturbate in front of Susan. Moreover, had Susan not been stripping herself naked and masturbating in front of him first, it would have been perversely perverted for him to strip naked and to masturbate in front of her. Normally fearing that his wife would not only catch him exposing himself to his new neighbor but also masturbating in front of his new neighbor, his behavior of exhibitionism, voyeurism, and masturbation would have been perversely perverted if Liz wasn't part of their exhibitionism, voyeurism, and masturbation fun too but she was.

Taking her place on the bed with her legs spread wide, her bald, pink pussy exposed and clearly visible, and with a multitude of toys laid out, Susan gave William and Liz her show of her nude body while masturbating in her well lit bedroom. Returning the favor, a threesome circle of sexual self-satisfaction, William masturbated with Susan with his office light on and Liz masturbated with her with her light on from the spare bedroom. As if the three of them were the only members of a private and secret masturbation club, even when they saw one another on the street, the unspoken code was that they never spoke about their striptease and masturbation to one or the other. They'd just say hi and talk about the weather or about the neighborhood. Weirdly surreal, never did any of them mention that they saw one or the other naked while masturbating.

Even though William and Liz had seen Susan naked and watched her masturbate and even though Susan had seen them naked and watched them masturbate, they didn't publically discuss their lewd and lascivious behavior in the way they publically viewed one another stripping naked and masturbating. Obviously, none of them wanted to ruin what they had been doing by shinning a bright light of open and honest dialogue to their secret, lurid, masturbation obsession. Leaving what they were doing unsaid, it was better that they watched the naked show than talked about their naked public display of masturbation. Nobody's business but their own and only shared by one another, it was their dirty, secret to enjoy their public, albeit private show of masturbation in the privacy of the bedrooms of their homes.

Being that his wife was always up in the spare bedroom now with the light on and the curtains open at the same time that he and Susan were there every evening with their lights on and their windows unobstructed, knowing she knew, William didn't even talk to Liz about their masturbation threesome. No longer having that kind of sexual relationship with her and feeling awkward discussing sex and all things sexual with his wife, what was there to say really that they haven't already said and ignore before Susan even appeared on the scene? Just as he knew Liz was giving Susan a masturbation show, she knew that he was too. Sometimes, in the way that he wished Liz would watch him strip off his clothes and masturbate, he wished he could watch her strip off her clothes and masturbate.

Albeit watching her from different rooms that was separated by a mere wall, after 30-years of a marriage that had withered, it was a wall that was too high and thick to bridge. Nonetheless, the fact that they both watched Susan strip naked and masturbate was excitingly erotic. She was their conduit, the woman who brought them together again even though they were still so very far apart. The fact that Susan was giving them a show of her beautiful body after stripping herself naked and before masturbating while knowing full well that William and Liz were both watching her before stripping themselves naked and masturbating with her was William's sexual fantasy come true. In all of the porn videos he's watched of Susan in a naked, sexually action filled starring role, a sexual fantasy come true, he never thought he'd ever meet her never mind watch her strip naked and parade around her room naked before masturbating herself every night.

Such a waste, a woman so beautiful and sexy should never have to pleasure herself with masturbation. He wished he was in her bedroom with her right now. He'd be happy to masturbate her. More than just merely masturbating her, he'd give Liz a show. He wished Liz was in Susan's bedroom right now masturbating her, both women would give him a real show. Still in love with Liz, even though he lusted over Susan, he wished Liz was there with him in Susan's bedroom him too. He never had a threesome before but always wanted one. Definitely Susan was too hot for him to handle alone without Liz playing an active role in pleasuring her in the way that he'd love to pleasure the both of them.

He didn't understand why a woman whose job was to have hot sex with good looking men had to masturbate. She could have any man to sexually pleasure her. Maybe she's lesbian. Maybe her show is more for Liz than it is for him. Maybe she wants Liz and not him.

"Wow!"

Certainly, he understood his and Liz's need to masturbate. They weren't having any sex but with Susan a porn star, her entire life was all about explicit sex, sexy circumstances and dialogue, and sexual situations. Once home, he'd think that instead of turning that part of her life back on that she'd want to turn that part of her life off, relax with a glass of wine, and just sleep in her bed instead of masturbating in her bed.

Maybe she's a nymphomaniac. Maybe instead of just living across the street from a porn star, he lives across the street from a nymphomaniac porn star. Maybe no matter how much sex she gets in a day, it's never enough. Maybe she wants sex now. Maybe she wants him and Liz now.

"Wow!"

No matter if she's a lesbian or a nymphomaniac or not, why does she not only feel the need to masturbate nightly but also to masturbate in front of them? As if trying to initiate them into her luridly sexual lifestyle, is it just to give them a show of her naked body or is it more than that? Maybe there's something wrong with her. Maybe she has a screw loose that he'd love to tighten. Maybe she's mentally deranged. Just because she's beautiful doesn't mean she can't be totally nuts. As if she's a sexually offending man in a woman's body, how could someone so beautiful and sexy be so depravedly, sexually crazy to strip off her clothes and masturbate in front of them?

"Sex, sex, sex, her entire life is about sex," he said for no one to hear.

What's her real agenda in feeling the need to sexually excite a mature, nearly elderly couple by stripping off her clothes and masturbating in front of them? He only wished something like this happened to him twenty or thirty years ago when he was able to do more about it than to just watch while masturbating. If he was a younger and unmarried man, he'd marched across the street and ring her doorbell. He'd be taking her in his arms and kissing her before carrying her to her bedroom and giving her the deep, hard fucking she needs to satisfy her eternal horniness and his eternal, lustful desire for her.

Surely her showing them her naked body is not to entice them to strip naked and masturbate. Why would someone who looks like her and who works with beautiful men and women want to see them naked and masturbating? Being that she definitely must be an exhibitionist, perhaps even a voyeur, to make porn movies that are distributed all over the world, maybe her thing is exposing herself to them. Maybe, just as simple as that, she enjoys being watched. Maybe, just as simple as that, she enjoys watching too. The perfect neighbors, maybe she had been searching for a couple who'd play her sexy game of mutual masturbation and self-abusive pleasure.

Yet, what happened to her to have made her so perversely twisted? Surely for her to do what she does during the day and night too, she's not normal. Whether young or old, obese or thin, not many woman, especially one so beautiful and sexy, one who could have any man, would strip off their clothes and masturbate, especially while knowing that someone was watching. Why does she do that? Curious why someone like her does the things that she does, he's just glad that she lives across the street from him.

He watched her using vibrators of various sizes and colors. He watched her using dildos of various shapes and sizes. Switching from one to the other, seemingly not having a favorite toy and going from one toy to the next toy, it appeared that the collection of toys as a whole were her favorite. 

He watched her pleasuring her pussy with a vibrator before switching to a different vibrator. Using one vibrator for her pussy and another for her nipples, teasing them as much as she was teasing herself, he watched her exciting herself while masturbating herself. Then, done temporarily with the vibrators, it was time for the dildos.

Never did she take a dildo anally. Perhaps had she had a partner to lubricate her ass and to guide the dildo inside without hurting herself, she would. Still, in the way she switched from vibrators to vibrator, he watched her switch from dildo to dildo. Taking them in her pussy before taking them in her mouth, she seemed fond of sucking and licking her own pussy juices in the way that he wished he could suck and lick her pussy juices too.

Just as he'd love to lick her, he'd love to watch Liz lick her. After sucking him, he'd love to watch Susan lick Liz. Imagining both women on either side of him, he'd love to watch them taking turns with his cock while sucking him and while he played with their tits. How hot would that be? A sexual fantasy come true, watching Susan's sexy striptease and masturbation show is way better than taking a golfing trip to Bermuda.

Every night Susan always had a new toy and William was envious that she had so very many wonderful masturbation toys. In the way she played with so very many vibrators and dildos, he wondered if sex toys, along with panties, bras, and high heeled shoes were her sexual fetishes. Other than all the women he's watched on porn videos, having never watched a woman masturbate live and in person before, had he not witnessed this sexy show of masturbation, he never would have known that masturbation could be so creatively erotic. As if he was the joker and she was Batman, envious of all of her sexual toys, he watched her playing with toy after toy. 




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 08



"Where does she find all of those wonderful toys?" 

Determined to outdo her by finding a toy of his own to demonstrate his masturbation prowess, only he didn't have any masturbation toys. Unless he was a gay man and into anal sex, aside from watching porn movies, looking at photos of naked women, and/or reading pornographic or erotic stories online while masturbating, men don't usually have sexual toys in the way that women do. No man that he knows, unless that man is into bondage, discipline, and submission, uses sexual toys during masturbation. All that a man needs to do is to visualize a woman they know naked, while doing sexual things to her and she doing sexual things to him, as they stroked themselves, is enough to get them to ejaculate. Women, on the other hand, sluts for cocks and all things phallic, prefer holding their phallic symbols in their hand while rubbing their clit and fingering their nipples with a vibrator while impaling their mouths or pussies with a dildo.

Now that he thought about self sexual aids and masturbation toys, he always wanted to invent pocket tits, portable tits of varying sizes that he could carry around with him in his pockets and touch, feel, and fondle whenever he was horny. Whenever he was talking to a female neighbor on the street or a female sales clerk in a store, he could be playing with his pocket tits while imagining playing with her tits.

"Wow!"

Something pliable, soft, and realistic looking, made of silicon but firm enough to feel like the real thing, with all of the perverted men and woman, for that matter, in the world, he knew he could sell millions of them. There's not a man that he knows who wouldn't buy a pair of pocket tits. He could sell them for $19.99 and, as a special offer, if they called within the next 15 minutes, they could get a second pair of pocket tits for free and only be charged for shipping and handling. He'd be hugely successful selling the first sexual toy geared to most heterosexual men. Better than playing pocket pool with his penis, pocket tits, resplendent with nipples, areolas, and that felt like the real thing would be more fun. In a lightning bolt of eroticism, it was then that he remembered Veronica.

"Veronica!"

How could he ever forget about Veronica? As soon as he remembered her name, a sexual excitement overwhelmed him and his cock throbbed at the mere thought of her sucking him and him fucking her again. Before Liz, Veronica was his everything. Alone in his room while his mother was downstairs, he lost his virginity to Veronica when he was 18-years-old. He loved Veronica. He lusted over Veronica. If he could have married her, he would have. 

"Veronica! I forgot all about you. With you being so much part of my young, sexually inexperienced life, how could I possibly forget about you? Veronica, Veronica, Veronica, I love you Ronnie. We spent so many sexy times together," he said stroking his cock for Susan to see while he now thought more about Veronica than he did about seeing Susan naked while watching her masturbating herself.

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 09



William and Liz masturbate while watching Susan stripping off her clothes and masturbating.

"Veronica. Veronica. Veronica."

As soon as he said her name, he was filled with a sexual excitement that he hasn't felt in years. Now that he's not having sex with Liz anymore, he wouldn't mind having sex with Veronica again. He'd love for her to suck his cock again before making love to her again. With Ronnie sharing his bed every night for years and having grown accustomed to having her there with him in the dark, he couldn't sleep without feeling her next to him. It was so comforting to know that she was always there ready and willing to have sex with him whenever and wherever he wanted. His closeted secret, he remembered all the times she sucked him and all the times he fucked her. His fantasy woman for years while coming of age, without a doubt, she helped him become a man when he was alone in his college dorm room.

The one behind all of his sexiest dreams back then, she helped him ease and erase the horniness that plagued him as if his sexual frustration was a dastardly disease that poisoned his thoughts enough to make it impossible for him to concentrate on his studies. Not proud of it now and feeling more than guilty that he used her for his own selfishly sexual reasons, indeed he used Veronica as his erotic medicine to relieve and eliminate his always present horniness when all that he could think of was sex instead of his studies. If it wasn't for her, he never would have graduated summa cum laude with emphasis on the cum loudly. If it wasn't for Ronnie there with him every night and day helping him to study while he read out loud to her for him to learn and memorize the material he needed to ace the tests, he would have not only been so horny but also so lonely. Confessing all of his secrets to her, she knew more about him than anyone.

With her facial expression always happy to see him and her mouth gaping open as if surprised to see how big his cock is, tall and shapely, she was so stunningly beautiful. Always giving him the special attention that he needed, her eyes never looked away from him. The center of his world, she made him feel so special and he was honored to not only have her in his life but also to have sex with her. A time when he had few friends, she was not only his best friend but also his lover. Definitely, if his mother knew that he was having sex night and day with Veronica, she'd never approve.

Yet, no one knew about Veronica. She was his closeted secret, the skeleton that he kept hidden in the closet. If only his mother knew that, instead of thinking of Ronnie when having sex with her, he thought of her, his mother, she'd be humiliated. She'd be outraged. She'd be deeply offended that her son wanted to have sex with her naked body.

Nonetheless his mother's disapproval of his sometimes perverse behavior, especially whenever he was around her alone, he was always flashing her his cock while making it appear accidental. Sexually enamored with his mother, when he wasn't flashing her his cock, he was always trying to steal up skirts peeks of her panties and up nightgown peeks of her pussy. When up skirts and up nightgowns were available, he was always stealing down blouse peeks of his mother's bra and cleavage and down nightgown views of his mother's tits and nipples, especially when she was only wearing her sheer nightgown. Whatever he saw of his mother, he used as fodder to masturbate over imagining having sex with her naked body while in his room.

After having seen so much of his mother's body while imagining even more, he thought of his mother whenever Ronnie sucked his cock and whenever he made love to her. If only his mother knew that he wished it was her naked body he was holding, her tits he was feeling, and mouth and pussy that he was ejaculating in, she'd have his head examined. He wished his mother was in his dorm room bed instead of Veronica. Even now, although his mother has been dead for years, he still thinks of having sex with her when masturbating. She's the woman he thought of and not Ronnie.

Ten years before he met Liz, he would have gone mad had it not been for Veronica always being there willing and ready to give him the sexual pleasure that he wanted, needed, and had to have to complete his studies. Too sidetrack with sex and all things sexual, if it wasn't for Veronica keeping him balanced and maintaining his focus on school, he may have dropped out of college and never enjoyed the successful career he's had as a top attorney. Without a doubt, he owes a lot of his success to Veronica.

"Veronica, Veronica, Veronica. I love you Ronnie."

Even though he used her, he never abused her. She meant too much to him to not treat her with respect. He was always careful to show her his love and appreciation for all that she did to help him focus on school. After sexually using her, when he was done with her, he took great pleasure in bathing her. He loved washing her naked body. He cherished his bath times with Veronica. Even though his bath times with her was fun, bathing her somehow always turned sexual. She was always very naughty as soon as she was in the bathtub with him naked. A time when he was able to have sex three, four, and five times daily, definitely his equal sexually, Veronica never said no.

It's been years since he played with and had sex with Veronica, not since his college days. Hoping she was still available and hoping he didn't throw her in the trash when he was cleaning out the garage to fit his new car, the next day, he went out to the garage to look for her. Determined to find her as if she was an old girlfriend and hidden treasure and she was, if she wasn't in the garage, then she may be down in the basement or up in the attic. Wherever she was hiding, he was determined to find her. Just because she's not human, a blowup doll that had given him so much pleasure doesn't deserve to be hidden in a box and forgotten forever. Maybe now that his little masturbating secret is out with Susan's public display of stripping naked before masturbating herself, he can finally bring Veronica to the forefront where she belongs.

Digging through all of the old boxes stacked in the far recesses of the garage, he found her boxed away in the corner of the garage with the spiders and cobwebs and with her name prominently displayed on the box in big, red capital letters, VERONICA. He rescued her from her arachnid nest to a fate more deserving with all the sexual pleasure she has given him. He brought her up to his bedroom/office, unboxed her limped but cherished, rubberized body, and blew her up to the firmness of his blowup bed when using it for camping, which he hasn't done in years either. Only, not as young and in shape as he used to be, in the way he was after having hot sex with Liz, by the time he finished blowing up Veronica, he was out of breath, sweating, and dizzy. That night, excited for them to meet after not introducing her to anyone, he'd introduce Susan to his beloved Veronica. No doubt, she'll be so jealous of his blowup doll that she'll wish that she was Veronica and in his room with him.

With not even Liz knowing that he had a blowup doll and specifically one named Veronica, he kept her as his sexy secret for more than four decades. Feeling a bit like Dudley Moore in Foul Play when he played against Goldie Hawn and accidentally exposed his wardrobe full of sex toys to her, William was intent on introducing Susan to Veronica. Curious for her reaction, he hoped that he wasn't about to ruin their budding erotic relationship of exhibitionism, voyeurism, and masturbation, when he showed her all the things he'd do to Veronica. If he hoped for anything, he hoped to make her jealous and to make her wish that she was in his office with him.

First things first, before introducing Susan to Veronica and showing her all the things that he'd love to do to her naked body, he needed to watch her sexy show of stripping of her clothes and parading around her room naked, before getting in bed to masturbate. A sexy sight he never tired of watching, he love watching sexy Susan undressing. Then, hoping to break her focus while she masturbated herself, he couldn't wait to surprise her with voluptuous Veronica. He wondered her reaction. Just as he's loved her sexy show, he wondered if she'd enjoy his sexy show.

Done brushing her long, blonde, beautiful hair while sitting at her vanity table naked, he watched her stand and retrieve two handfuls of her masturbation toys before climbing on her bed in the way he imagined her climbing on top of him. Walking toward her bed, every time she walked towards her bedroom windows naked, with her body moving in sections, ass, tits, and pussy, slowly walking closer, he imagined her walking to him. With her round, naked ass poised in the air while trying to get comfortable, he so wished he was in the room with her. Seeing her exposed pussy in the light before she fluffed her pillows and moved to her back, she was such a sexy sight to behold while watching her getting in bed. 

Readying himself for his nightly show of masturbation while waiting for Susan to mount her bed, as he's done all of the other evenings before, he unzipped himself and pulled out his cock to stroke himself to a nice erection before turning on his office light to strip naked. In the way that he always thought of having sex with his mother when with Veronica, he never thought of having sex with his mother while watching Susan strip naked and masturbate herself. With her nightly masturbation show now in progress, Susan was already on her bed naked and touching and playing with herself with toy after toy.

He watched her feeling, fondling, and caressing her big breasts in the way he wished he could. Pulling them, turning them, and twisting them, he watched her finger her nipples before she put a vibrator to them to make them even harder and more erect. He watched her rub her clit and finger fuck her pussy before she replaced her finger with a vibrator and replaced her vibrator with a dildo. Swapping one dildo for the preference of another, he watched her lick and suck her pussy juices from her dildo to take her imagined prick in her mouth and suck it in the way that he imagined her sucking him.

"I can't wait for her to meet Veronica. Wait until she sees Veronica," he said. "She'll be so jealous that I have a toy that she doesn't have."

Always keeping her hidden in his closet when he wasn't using her, never showing Veronica to anyone before, he picked Veronica up off the floor and paraded her back and forth across his office window as if he was dancing with her on Dancing with the Stars. Then, bending and positioning her rubber body to her knees, he gently placed his beloved Veronica in front of his erect cock. In the way he used to think of his mother sucking his cock when he was an 18-year-old college freshman, he now thought of Susan giving him oral pleasure. With a hand behind her ingrained, rubber, black hair, he impaled her always opened mouth with his erect prick and pretended that she was blowing him and sucking his cock in the way that Susan had just been licking and sucking her dildo. The familiar feel of latex, albeit mixed with the musty odor of being in the garage too long, thinking of her in the way that Robert Cummings, no doubt, must have thought of his Living Doll, Rhoda, played by Julie Newmar fifty years ago, he remembered all the lonely and horny nights his rubber doll kept him sexual company.

In the way he wished he was doing with Susan now in her bedroom, he humped her mouth and fucked her face. Giving her a real, sexy show, he continued making oral love to Veronica while wishing he was making oral love to Susan. Even though she was right across the street from his house naked, he'd give anything for Susan to be on her knees in front of him sucking his cock instead of her being on her bed masturbating her pussy. Definitely, he'd trade his rubber doll for Susan, his imagined living doll.

He stared across the street at Susan's naked body while she touched herself, felt, fondled, and caressed her tits and massaged her pussy with her vibrator and fucking her pussy with her dildo. Looking as if she was about to have an orgasm, she turned her head to watch him with his blowup doll. William was excited that after all of these years he was finally able to show someone his sexual secret of him having Veronica in his life. He just hoped that she wouldn't be offended and think of him as the obvious pervert that he is.

Only, not one to be outdone, surprising him by upping the ante, Susan interrupted her sexy masturbation show. She climbed off her bed and walked to her closet and, before opening her closet door, she turned to watch him with Veronica. He was really giving her a show now. Humping her mouth, he was nearly ready to cum. Only, he stopped while wondering what she was doing to disrupt her nightly masturbation show. He watched her open her closet door and pull out a box. He couldn't imagine what was in the box, more vibratos and dildos, no doubt. She had so very many toys after all. Then, as if pulling out something from the future or as if she were a magician pulling out her male assistant from a magic box that held his contorted, deflated body, she pulled out her own rubber man. 

"Wow! Look at him. He looks so frigging real. If I didn't see her pulling him out of a box, I'd think there was a man in her room with her."

Way better than his sexy, sexual toy and putting Veronica to shame, what took him twenty minutes to fill her with air, with just a push of a button, took only mere seconds. In an instant, she unleashed an anatomically correct blowup doll of man. With hair on his head, pubic hair around his cock, and a hard erection that any male human would be happy to have, as soon as he saw her blowup doll, Veronica sprung a leak and deflated. He looked down at her limp, wrinkled, 42-year-old, rubber body before looking over at Susan with her new, super, deluxe blowup man standing so proud and ready.

"Wow! This woman is amazing."

Completely resplendent with all of the extra cost options, her doll even had an ass opening, something that he wished Veronica had. He wished he could have fucked Veronica up the ass while hanging on to her big, latex, pointy tits. Once again, he was jealous of Susan's sexually adventurous side not only to have so very many sexual toys but also to have the better male version of his blowup doll. Just no way, he couldn't compete with her. All that he could do was to enjoy her nightly striptease and masturbation show while giving her a view of him stroking his prick. As it was for him, perhaps watching him stroking his cock to her playing with herself was enough for her. Certainly, it was enough for him to watch her strip off her clothes, to see her naked, and to watch her masturbate, that is, until he imagined having sex with Susan in his bed or until she invited him in hers.

Now giving him the show with her blowup doll that he wished he could have given her with Veronica as reciprocation for all the times he watched her strip naked and masturbate with her toys, he watched Susan with her rubber man sucking him and fucking him while looking over and smiling at him and at Liz. She was such a sexy tease. Maybe she isn't lesbian after all. If she was lesbian, wouldn't she have a female blowup doll instead of a male blowup doll? Yet, if she was lesbian, she'd never have sex with a man, especially with all the men she's sucked and fucked in her porn movies. Maybe having sex is just a job to her. Maybe she's bi-sexual. Definitely by all the sex she's had with women in her porn movies, if she's not lesbian, she must be bi-sexual to have sex with other women. 

He wished she was sucking and fucking him instead of sucking and fucking her rubber man. Jealous of that big, silicone bag of air, he wished he was in bed with her instead. He wondered if she named her blowup doll in the way that he named his blowup doll Veronica. Too creative not to name her doll, no doubt, she did. Maybe she named him after one of her co-stars, Biff Jerky or Lance Johncox, or Dick Hardon. He wished he could be in one of her movies in a starring role, a role where he had hot sex with her. Forever recorded on DVD, he'd love to watch his movie role with her over and again while masturbating.

Becoming a little bored with their nightly masturbation game, something he never thought he'd be, he wondered what Liz was doing to get Susan's attention. Who knows? In the way that he kept his secret for decades, maybe Liz has a blowup doll of her own that he never knew she had. Now, after all these sexless years, he wondered if she had been faithful to him in the way he's always been faithful to her. Maybe Liz is more of a sexpot than he ever knew. Perhaps with her hairdresser, her personal trainer, her tennis pro, or some other young man she met while shopping for shoes and flashing him her panties in purposeful up skirt views, he wondered if she had a lover.

Just the thought of Liz flashing her panties in the way she used to do with him when he accompanied her to the mall, especially to buy shoes and boots a size too small, was so erotically exciting. Just the thought of Liz having sex with another man excited him as if she did have a lover. With him pleasuring her and her pleasuring him, he wished he could watch her sucking and fucking another man. Now with his wife hopefully having sex with their new neighbor, the porn star, there's a movie that he'd watch over again while masturbating.

Willing to have sex anywhere and anytime, Liz was such a sexpot when she was younger but, with the hormones freely flowing, everyone was sexier and hornier in their youth. She was so very pretty and still is so very beautiful, especially for a 60-year-old woman. Now with swollen ankles, painful knees, bad hips, bum backs, and sore shoulders, feet, and neck, pain medication replaced condoms, lubrication crème, sex toys, excess amounts of alcohol, and naked pool parties. He missed those days of sexy, naked foolishness.

Alas, with the advent of old age, their sexual adventurous side had been dead and buried for years, that is, until Susan moved in across the street to rejuvenate their libidos by making them temporarily forget their pain with her nightly striptease and masturbation show. As if receiving a shot of adrenaline, a dose of testosterone, or a sudden increase to his human growth hormones, watching her stripping naked and masturbating made him feel younger and sexually vital again. Wishing he was forty-years-old again, in his ten years of gradually deteriorating health, Susan was better medicine than any doctor had prescribed.

"Susan, Susan, Susan. I love you Susan," he chanted over her in the way that he used to chant over Veronica before Liz.

After stripping herself naked and masturbating herself with her windows uncovered and her bedroom light on, while knowing her horny neighbors were watching, he wondered what Susan would do next that she hasn't already done. As if she already hasn't done enough by reaching in her bag of sexual surprises with all of her masturbation toys, he wondered what her next step would be. He wondered if he should talk to Liz about Susan's nightly striptease and masturbation show that they obviously both so enjoyed to see what she thought and if she was as excited over the thoughts of bedding Susan as he was. He wondered if Susan was waiting for him or Liz to approach her and ask her for sex.

Definitely if he were a younger man with more hair and less of a paunch, even being married and with Liz living across the street, he would have asked her for sex already. If he didn't feel that she'd reject him, he'd ask her for sex but what would someone who looks like her, someone who could have any man, want with him. He wondered if she'd actually have sex with him, a man old enough to be her father. With all the women he's bedded over the years, before he was married, he could have had a daughter her age somewhere and maybe he did for all that he knew.




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 09



Extrapolating the premise that he could be her father, what if she was his daughter? He imagined her being his 40-year-old daughter. How weird would that be with him lusting over his daughter while not knowing that he's her Daddy? How weird would that be if she bought the house across the street from him because she knew he was her Daddy? Definitely with everything on the internet and with DNA testing, she could find him if she wanted to take the time and spend the money to hire a private investigator to investigate him and take a sample of his DNA from a spent Starbucks coffee cup. Being that she was a porn star who had long lapses between movies, she had both the time and the money to hire someone to find him.

"Nah, you're just being paranoid," he said waving a hand of disbelief. "If I had a daughter somewhere, I would have had a paternity suit and a petition for child support filed against me years ago."

Running the long list of women through his head that he had sex with before Liz, he thought of all the women he had sex with that he could have impregnated. Thinking back forty years when he was in college and out partying, a real beauty, there was one woman in particular that always haunted him. A stripper he met at a bar, he wondered what happened to her? He wondered where she was now. She'd be in her seventies. Maybe she's dead. Maybe she's happily married and a grandmother. Truly, a real traffic stopper, she was just as beautiful and sexy then as Susan is now.

"What was her name? Linda? Donna? Diana? Debra? Deborah! Yes, that was her name, Deb-or-ah, she so pronounced it."

She was drop dead gorgeous and tall, as striking and as tall as Susan and she had the body to match. She was a thirty-something-year-old prostitute and being that he was out drinking more than he should, he got a room with her for the night. Wouldn't that be funny if she had a kid and didn't tell him, maybe because she couldn't find him to tell him. With him moving to Boston after accepting a job at a law firm, how would she know where to look to find him? All she knew was that he was in college and wanted to attend law school to become a lawyer but there's a million lawyers.

He wondered if he told her his name. He wondered if he gave her his phone number or address. Being that he was drunk, he may have. Being that he's now registered with the bar and licensed by the state, maybe knowing his name and that he's a lawyer, was more than enough information for his daughter to find him.

Forgetting about the possibly of Susan being his daughter, that was just crazy and, having a better chance of winning the lottery with all the countries he's visited and sexual affairs he's had, her being his daughter was a one in a billion long shot. Switching the subject in his mind from having an illegitimate child out there somewhere to having sex with a woman nearly half his age, he wondered if Susan would be interested in doing Liz and if Liz would be interested in doing Susan. Something he'd love to see, he'd love to watch the two women going at one another as if they were making their own version of a porn movie.

Having done plenty of threesomes in her porn movies before, he wondered if Susan would be interested in doing a threesome with him and Liz. He'd love to be fucking Susan while licking Liz or licking Liz while fucking Susan. He'd love to lick his wife while Susan sucked his cock, then switching off, he'd love to lick Susan while Liz sucked his cock. Beginning a new dimension in their long, sexless marriage, with his wife participating in a threesome with his dream woman, how good would that be to literally have his cake and be able to eat it too?

Maybe Susan is just the sexual, erotic medicine they need to rejuvenate their marriage and for them to get back together again. Being that they've been together for so long, for more than 30 years, he'd be willing to get back with Liz if she'd be willing to get back with him. They were best friends after all before they were lovers. Now, after not having sex and after not even talking, they're strangers masturbating for a stranger from different rooms. Too bizarre, bringing in a third person as a sexual facilitator when they can't even communicate between themselves is just so weird.

Maybe Susan's role is to bring them both back together. As if Susan is their friendly, neighborhood, personal sex therapist, if nothing else, in the guise of having a threesome, she'd be a buffer for Liz to want to have sexual relations with him again. Still sexually attracted to and in love with his wife, he missed having sex with Liz. Hell, in the way he's been so horny lately, he missed having sex with Veronica. 

Only, more than just sex, he missed having a conversation with his wife of thirty-something-years in the way they always talked about everything and laughed over nothing. He missed sitting with her while drinking a cup of coffee or watching a movie together or laughing over reality TV. He missed playing Scrabble with her and doing the Sunday crossword puzzle together. It's been a long time, years, since she wanted him enough to talk to him as a friend never mind to have sex with him as her lover. With still fresh feelings of hurt and rejection that sickened his soul and hurt his head, it's been a long time since he wanted her.

He wondered if Liz was as wet for Susan in the way she used to be so wet for him. She used to get so wet that his cock would just slide inside of her and serve as the lubrication he needed to fuck her, really fuck her, and pound her pussy. He missed those days of sexy lovemaking and wished he could turn back the clock of time to experience all of that again. Maybe Susan was sent here as their angelic sexual gatekeeper for them to rekindled the love they once had and to save their marriage. Maybe having sex with Susan would be the best thing they could do as a couple to avoid a costly divorce. If Liz was watching Susan masturbate while she was masturbating too, maybe she was as ready to take the next step as he is ready to have a threesome.

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 10



Susan has a panty, bra, and shoe fetish and so doesn't William and Liz too.

After weeks of giving William and his wife, Liz, the same sexy, striptease show of her stripping herself naked and parading around her room naked before getting in bed to masturbate herself, the next night, Susan gave them a much different show but one as equally erotic. Instead of primarily showing them her sexy, naked body again, she gave them more of an intimate, erotic, and exotic look at who she was as a sexual woman. Expecting her to walk in her bedroom and slowly strip off her clothes while posing in front of her bedroom window before parading around her room naked, William was shocked that she didn't climb on her bed to masturbate this time. Old enough to know that all good things must come to an end, was last night the end of her nightly striptease and masturbation show? 

Changing her routine, she gave William and Liz a new show, albeit one where she's fully dressed. Rather than doing the same sexy and sexually exciting routine and giving her neighbors the same striptease show, she opened her dresser drawers and pulled out pile after pile of panties. William wondered what she was going to do with all of those panties. Being that she had just moved in, maybe she wanted to clean out and organize her panty drawer. Maybe she just wanted to show him her panties and show him how many panties she had. Maybe she was just as much into panties as he was and was just as excited to show him all of her panties as he was excited to see all of her panties.

Dozens upon dozens of panties, he couldn't believe how many panties she pulled from her drawer. How many panties did she have? No one needs to have that many panties. Yet, exciting to see her panties, even when not on her sexy body, he liked this show that starred her panties.

When she was done displacing and displaying all of her panties, she had a hilly heap of cotton, silk, and satin in a rainbow of thin, sheer, pastel and bright colors. A prime candidate for a panty raid in the way that he participated in panty raids when he was in college forty years ago, never has he seen so many panties together at one time. Never has he truly appreciated her panties until she so publically displayed them now. Better than just seeing them in a heap on the bed, hoping more to compare one panty from the other, he only wished she'd wear them and model them.

Dumping two drawer full of panties on her bed in a high, heaping mound, as if she was getting ready for a panty sale at Victoria Secrets, she took the time to fold them and neatly pile the panties in stacks on her bed. Aligned in rows and organized in colors and by styles, she had so very many panties, too many to count. It was an amazing display of her panties. Unless she wanted to use her whole bed to house her entire panty collection, with so many stacks of pretty panties taking up half of her king-sized, memory foam bed, she had to double and triple stack them for all of her panties to fit on her bed.

He surmised correctly that she was saving the other half of her bed for something else, but what? Maybe her plan is to masturbate while holding and sniffing her panties in the way that he wished he could. How hot would that be to watch her holding her panties up to her nose while fingering herself? Masturbating with her, he'd love to see her masturbating over her panties in the way that he'd masturbate over her panties if her were there in her bedroom with her.

As if she was a saleswoman organizing the lingerie department of a high end department store, folding each one with loving care, she was so organized with her panties that she made William want to color coordinate his shirts in his closet and/or clean out and rearrange his sock drawer. He wondered if Liz was watching what he was watching. He wondered what Liz thought of Susan's panty show and panty collection. He wondered if Liz was not only jealous that Susan had so very many pretty panties but also that she had the body to wear them, not that Liz didn't have a body but she didn't have Susan's body.

No doubt, after seeing so very many of Susan's panties, inspiring her to do so, she'll be making a visit to Victoria Secret's at the mall. Liz looked good in her panties and as good then in her panties as Susan does now but with Susan twenty years younger than Liz, there's no comparing how the woman looked in their panties now. Only, with Liz not giving him sex and the amusement park permanently closed, other than for her masturbating herself while watching Susan or her giving her lover sex, if she even had a lover, he wondered why his wife needed to buy any more sexy underwear.

After seeing Susan's panties, going beyond sex and all things sexual to movie scenes that were more erotic than pornographic, William couldn't help but remember an old movie, Body Double. Craig Wasson, played by Jake Scully, watches a woman, Gloria Revelle, played by Deborah Shelton, trying on panties in the dressing room of a lingerie store with the curtain open just enough for him to see. Purchasing them after trying them on, the saleswoman puts her used panties in a small store bag and Gloria wears her new panties out of the store. If the scene wasn't so hot it would be bizarre.

As soon as Gloria leaves the lingerie store, she discards her used panties in the trash. Of course, being the voyeuristic, panty fetish pervert that he is, Craig retrieves her panties from the trash. William so enjoyed that movie that it has a permanent place in his movie library and he still watches the movie on occasion.

A product of the fifties and sixties, the time of Doris Day, Donna Reed, Harriet Nelson, and June Cleaver, William grew up during a time when women wore white gloves, girdles, and garter belts. Cars had fins instead of curves and sex was underground and only spoken about behind closed, bedroom door and/or whispered and laughed about to his friends while drinking beer in the park. Closeted and restricted by the puritan morals of censorship of the day, he was an officer of the court and to keep his license to practice law, he had to obey, ascribe to, and adhere to the laws of decency of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Nonetheless his public display of decency, a leering lecher in private, Body Double was William's introduction to exhibitionistic women and voyeuristic men.

Years before, an admitted voyeur before developing a panty fetish, he spent his fair share of time trying to see up women's short skirts on the subway, on college campus, and at work in the sixties and seventies. After watching Body Double in the eighties, even though he was an adult by then and not some testosterone filled horny teenager, that movie, was responsible for the encouraged flourishment of his panty fetish. No doubt, even more than sniffing and masturbating over his mother's panties and even more then spying on women's panties on the subway, on college campus, and at work, he's always had a sexual fantasy of seeing women modeling in their underwear, something that was forbidden from television until relatively recently with Victoria's Secrets leading the way.

Already squirreled away in college and on his way to law school, having his share of carefree sex in college with drunken dorm parties, William was too late for the party to enjoy all of the fun that started with the sexual revolution of the sixties. With Twiggy modeling in her mini skirt and Pussy Galore and Ursula Andress enticing James Bond with their bikini clad bodies, as soon as Madison Avenue discovered that sex sells, suddenly everything was all about sex. With the censors finally taking a more hands off approach with Hollywood and then with television, even commercials took a sexual twist, with Edie Adams telling men to, "Take it all off, take it all off," in a Noxema commercial that was played with stripper's music. Making even football a sexual thing by enticing women to lust over football players in the way that men lusted over cheerleaders, Broadway Joe Namath was having his wicked way with women in the way that Tom Jones was with women tossing their used panties on stage.

Too serious and too mature for his age, William missed too much of the sexual revolution by devoting his life to his studies before attending law school and, right after, accepting a job with long hours at a law firm. Instead of playing around and playing the field, he married Liz, the love of his life, bought this house and began his married life living in this quiet neighborhood, that is, until Susan moved in across the street. With all things in life finding a balance, he had a fondness for watching porn movies, specifically porn movies that showcased Susan as the star. By happenstance, the sexual things that he missed going to school and working was readily available to him now by just looking out his office windows. Nonetheless, realizing all the sexual fun that he missed, he wished he were twenty or thirty years younger.

With movies needing the stamp of the censors approval, a time of watching black and white movies when the camera panned from the sexual action to a cigarette left burning in an ashtray meant that the couple was having sex. Unless the movie was XXX, the point is that they didn't make sexually explicit or even sexy movies like that back then, that is, until Brando's Last Tango in Paris in '72 and Caligula in '79. Another equally erotic movie that he remembered a few years before Body Double, and one that encouraged his emerging panty fetish, was Dressed to Kill.

After dropping her glove in a New York museum, a stranger offers Angie Dickinson a ride in the backseat of his cab by enticing her with her dropped glove. As soon as she enters the taxi, he kisses her. Not taking no for an answer, his hand climbed higher up her short skirt until he removed her panties. There in view of the aroused taxi driver and the movie watching audience, every man's dream back then to have sex with Angie Dickinson, this lucky passenger had his oral, wicked way with her pussy.

Shoot 'em up western and blow 'em war movies in the 50's and 60's, movies that were more about violence then were suddenly more about sex in the 70's and 80's. Dressed to Kill and Body Double were two movies he's never forgotten; those sexy scenes were erotically so hot and more memorable than the pornographic movies of the time, Deep Throat and Behind the Green Door. Inserting Liz in both those scenes, he'd love to watch a man watching her trying on panties in a lingerie store and he'd love to watch a man remove her panties in a cab before eating her. Then, inserting Susan in both movies, he could only hope, just as he'd love to remove her panties, he'd love to watch her try on panties. Perhaps with all of her panties filling the bed, she was just about to do that, model her panties for him.

An up skirt kind of voyeur, especially on a windy day, seemingly more than coincidental that she'd display her private collection of panties to him, he wondered if she knew that he had a panty fetish. How could she possibly know that he had a panty fetish? Actually, being that he's a man, what man doesn't have a panty fetish? All men have a panty fetish. Unless that man is a gay man, there's not a man that he knows who wouldn't stop and stare at a woman's exposed panty.

The only thing that surpasses William's fetish for panties is his fetish for bras and high heeled shoes. As if holding up and folding all of her panties was her way of showing him her panties without modeling her panties, she had classic, full cut briefs, high cut briefs, and granny panties. He never imagined why a porn star would have granny panties, unless they were comfortable to wear when alone in bed. He never understood why a porn star would even own so many panties when he thought all porn stars, in the vein of strippers, and in the way of Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Jennifer Lopez, and Kim Kardashian, didn't wear panties when out on the town.

She had French cut, boyleg or boyshort panties, along with control panties, Spanx and Spandex panties. She had hipster panties, seamless panties, bikini panties, string bikini panties, cage lace open panel panties, ruffled panties, tangas, thongs, and g-string panties, if one dares call a g-string a panty. As evidence with the aid of his high powered binoculars, she had panties made of silk, satin, cotton, nylon, mesh, lace, leather, latex, Lycra, and polyester. Forget about Victoria's Secrets as having sexy panties, she had Frederick's of Hollywood bow back crotch-less panties too.

She had dozens of panties in all styles and in all colors. For a voyeur with a panty fetish that dates back to him sniffing and masturbating over his mother's panties and looking up short skirts during the sixties and seventies, he was in panty paradise while watching Susan fold all of her sexy, delicately, intimate apparel. Instead of just seeing her panties, he only wished he could touch, feel, and sniff her panties too. Alas, having to be satisfied with her just showing him, folding them, and stacking them, he only wished he could watch her modeling all of her panties too. A man with a panty fetish, his sexual fantasy come true, how hot would that be to see her panty clad crotch and ass parading back in forth in front of her bedroom window while wearing and modeling different panties?

This time, she didn't brush her long, lush, beautiful, blonde hair while sitting at the vanity table naked as if she was Lady Godiva naked on a horse or Rapunzel allowing her long, blonde hair to cascade from her shoulders and flow down her back. Instead, she opened more dresser drawers and, in the way she carried over her panties, she carried over an abundance of bras to the bed too. Teasing him with her sexy lingerie, with an equal amount of bras as she had panties, never has he seen so much lingerie in one space and in one viewing. If he knew she was into that sort of thing, he wished he had a collection of jockstraps that he could showcase by hanging them from his windows and piling them upon his desk.

Huge, oval helmets that housed her D cup breasts, if there's such a thing as reincarnation and if he had a choice as to what to return as, if he couldn't return as her panties, he'd want to return to Earth as her bra. If he were her bra, he'd do her breast a service by holding them so proudly high. Her mountain of bras of every color of the rainbow and of every style looked as if she had taken women prisoners, stripped them naked, and piled their underwear on her bed as proof that they were all locked down in her basement. In the horny way she was making him feel by flashing him all of her panties and bras, just as he wouldn't mind seeing a bevy of women modeling their panties and bras, he wouldn't mind seeing dozens of naked women without their bras and panties too.

Holding up each one of her bras in the way she did with her panties, as if she was teasing him and no doubt she was, she held them there in plain view as if she was examining each one for signs of wear. No doubt, in appreciation of the gay fashion designer who designed her sexy underwear, she held her panties and bras in the way that he'd hold her panties and bras, in respectful reverence, if ever he was alone in her bedroom with her sexy underwear. She already had a pile of panties set to the side that appeared were to be discarded and she added some of her bras to that pile too. Once it turned dark, too dark to witness his perversion and his perverse lust for her and her underwear, he envisioned himself digging through her trash bin to collect her discarded panties and bras.

She had adhesive bras, backless bras, balcony brass, bridal bras, and body bras, along with bustiers, camisoles, chemise, convertible bras, corsets, front closure bras. She had full bras, half cup bras, halter neck bras, jogging bras, lacy bras, liquid and gel bra, long-line bras, and minimizer bras. She had multi-way bras, padded bras, not that she needed a padded bra, along with plunging bras and push up bras. She had racer-back bras, seamless bras, sleep bras, sport bras, strapless bras, thermal bras, triangle bras, and underwire bras. He's never seen so many different kind of bras. A fun game for him to play, had he not had a bra fetish to match his panty fetish, he never would have be able to identify so many bra styles.

Then, thinking that her show was over but with her show not nearly over, she opened her walk-in closet. Carrying over six shoes at a time to take their place of honor with her panties and bras, she carried shoe after shoe after shoe and lined them all up in front of her bed as if they were her standing army of shoes albeit without feet. There were so many shoes that once her shoes were lined up the length of her bed and six rows deep, she couldn't even access that side of the bed without stepping on her shoes. Other than the shoes he's seen in a shoe store, he's never seen as many shoes.

She had high-heeled shoes with heels from kitten heels of 2 inches to spiked heel shoes of 6 inches and wedged heel shoes. She had knee high boots, calf high boots, and ankle boots. She had espadrilles, mules, sling backs, athletic shoes, flats, ballet flats, clogs, peep toe, platform shoes, pumps, slip-on shoes, strap-up shoes, stripper shoes, wedges, and slippers. Just as she had a lot of panties and bras, she had a lot of shoes too. If she had the equal number of legs of a caterpillar or a millipede, she had more than enough shoes to shod every foot.

With a huge pile of panties to go along with a mountainous pile of bras stacked upon her bed and a huge display of shoes that seemingly guarded her lingerie, he wondered what she was going to do with all of those bras, panties, shoes. Was she donating them all to charity? If she was donating her lingerie and shoes to charity, so long as the price was right, he'd definitely buy them all and take them off of her hands. Being that he's always had a panty, bra, and shoe fetish and so hasn't Liz, he could spend years masturbating while feeling and sniffing her panties, bras, and shoes.

Liz always had a huge collection of panties, bras, and shoes but nothing like this, not even close to the number of panties, bras, and shoes that Susan showcased on her bed and in front of her bed. Apparently, when not wearing anything at all, panties, bras, and shoes were the required uniform of a porn star. Perhaps, after she wore these panties, bras, and shoes in the making of her porn films, maybe she was allowed to keep them, which would explain why she had so very many of them.

He wondered if his wife was next door watching the panty, bra, and shoe show in the way he couldn't remove his eyes from Susan and her sexy lingerie and shoe collection display. He wondered if she was as aroused as he was seeing Susan's panties, bras, and shoes. As if masturbating for her was his personal applause, he couldn't wait to show Susan his sexually excited appreciation for her underwear and shoe show by masturbating for her.

He wished he could reciprocate Susan's showing of her underwear and shoes but he wasn't much of a collector, that is, other than his die cast car collection. He didn't think she'd want to see his die cast car collection in the way that he was enjoying seeing her panty, bra, and shoe collection. He wondered if she felt the same way when looking at her panties, bras, and shoes, as he did when looking at his die cast cars. He wondered if she loved her panties, bras, and shoes, in the same way that he loved his die cast cars. Surely with one collection not being as sexual as the other, truth be told, looking at his die cast car collection made him excited in the way that a man who has a model railroad display, a model airplane collection, or a toy soldier reenactment display must feel.

With his reason and need to collect die cast cars going back to being poor as a child and not being able to afford the toys that he wanted, he wondered if her need to collect so many panties, bras, and shoes was because she was poor as a child too. Perhaps she didn't have a panty, bra, and shoe fetish after all. Perhaps the reason why she had so many panties, bras, and shoes was simply because they were given to her from the porn movie wardrobe department. What else were they to do with used panties, bras, and shoes than to allow the wearer to keep them. A rhetorical question, who but the original wearer and a man with a panty, bra, and shoe fetish, would want her used panties, bras, and shoes?




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 10



Truth be told, he didn't know if she was poor or not as a child. Other than watching her in her porn movies and what he read about her on her online biography, he knew very little about her. As are so many children today, maybe she's the product of a single parent. Maybe her mother raised her after her father didn't come forward to accept his responsibility of illegally conceiving her. Maybe the reason why she's a porn star is because she had and survived a past of sexual abuse.

He thought again about the ridiculous possibly of him being her father. He thought about that prostitute, Debra or De-bor-ah, as she called herself, that he had sex with so long ago. Susan was the right age and because of her age and the time frame of him sowing so many of his wild oats when he was eighteen to twenty-years-old and attending wild college parties, conceivably and coincidentally, she could be his daughter. Only, if that indeed was the case, with her mother never stepping forward to tell him that he had impregnated her, how was he supposed to know that he needed to be a man, step up, and accept the responsibility that he had an illegitimate daughter?

He wondered how different his life would have been had he married the woman he made pregnant more than 40 years ago, that is, if even he did make her or anyone pregnant, other than Liz. What if her imagined mother was that prostitute, and with her sleeping with so very many men, Susan could have been any man's child? For sure, had he married at twenty-years-old, having to take a job to support them, he wouldn't have finished college. He wouldn't have attended law school. He wouldn't have become a lawyer, a partner in the firm, and had a successful legal career. With his life so extraordinarily different than the life he enjoyed now, he wouldn't be able to afford to buy this house in this ritzy neighborhood. He wouldn't be living across from Susan now in the way that he was and watching her playing with her panties, bras, and shoes.

Surely, he was glad that he didn't have to marry a woman who was a dozen years older than he was. With that woman in her thirties when he was barely twenty-years-old, being that she was a prostitute at that, but feeling compelled to marry her nonetheless, he was glad he didn't impregnate her. If he did impregnate her and if he had the knowledge that she was pregnant with his child, too young to ruin his life, he would have insisted that she abort the baby. For all that he knew, with DNA not invented forty years ago, if she was pregnant, she could have been impregnated from one of an army of men. Now facing the reality of abortion for the first time in his life and with his mind playing the what if scenarios of his life in the way he's had to play the what ifs as a lawyer, he imagine what may have happened if she had aborted the baby.

Just suppose, if Susan was indeed his illegitimate daughter, she never would have existed had her mother aborted her. How awful would that have been not to be an audience member to all of Susan's porn movies if she never survived her birth. He'd be denied seeing her strip naked and masturbate in the way he's watched her every night. Utter nonsense that she could be his bastard baby, thinking of more sexually exciting things, he erased the thought from his mind to more enjoy Susan's panty, bra, and shoe show.

Now with all of her bras and panties neatly arranged on her bed and with all of her shoes lined up as if they were foot soldiers protecting her panty and bra collection, not even giving him the chance to wonder what she'd do next, she turned to face the window and unbuttoned her blouse. Watching her unbutton one slow button at a time while looking down to see what that unbuttoned button revealed before continuing to unbutton the next button, he was already sexually aroused from watching her dump, fold, and arrange her underwear on her the bed. He wondered and hoped, once naked, that she'd model some of her bras, panties, and shoes for him.

As if a an audience of one or two, if Liz was watching too, he loved to have a private lingerie fashion show. Bra after bra, panty after panty, and shoe after shoe, he'd love to see her model them all in front of her big full length mirror and in the view of her bedroom windows and his office windows. Only with nothing to give her in return in appreciation for her modeling her underwear for him, all he could do is to offer her his applause by masturbating to her free, sexy show. Maybe his applause of masturbation was enough for her but he was hoping for more.

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 11



Susan models her panties, bras, and shoes for William and Liz.

Susan unbuttoned her blouse in the same exact, practiced way as she's done so very many times before and William stared at her as if seeing her cleavage and bra for the first time. Even though he's seen her tits so many times before, with her long line of cleavage and bulbous breasts swelling out of the top of her bra, it was still an amazingly arousing sight to see to see her in her bra. He wished he was there to hold her, to touch her, to feel her, and to kiss her. Perhaps simply because he was a voyeur, he didn't know what it was or why it was but there was just something about watching a woman undress, especially watching Susan undress. Perhaps simply because he had a panty, bra, and shoe fetish, he didn't know what it was or why it was but there was just something about seeing a woman, especially Susan in her sexy bra and form fitting panty while wearing and walking around in her high heeled shoes.

Watching her strip down to her underwear instead of stripping naked, if he was given a choice, he'd prefer seeing less while imagining more. As far as he was concerned, hiding a lot of the flaws of her imperfect body, a woman always looked better while wearing her sexy bra and bikini panty instead of posing naked. Only, in the case of Susan, she look as good while wearing her sexy underwear as she did standing there naked. A sight he never tired of seeing, as much as he loved seeing her naked, he loved to see what it took for her to slowly get naked. He loved seeing her in her lacy bra and pretty panty.

"I love seeing her in her bra," he said for no one to hear while watching her through his binoculars. "In nearly every color of the rainbow, she has such wonderful bras."

Unless he wanted to count every mole and every freckle she had on her chest, she was close enough that he didn't even need to use his binoculars. Glasses that he wore for distance, he could even see her without having to wear his glasses, only not as clearly. He did use his zoom when he wanted a closer look. Being that she was stripping down to her underwear again, he used his binoculars to see every minute detail of her bra now and for him to see more details of her panties later. A man with a sexual fetish come true, he couldn't get enough of seeing her in her bra and panty. He only wished she'd parade around her bedroom while wearing her high heels too.

After watching her play with and look at her panties, her bras, and her shoes, sorting them, folding them, stacking them, and aligning them in organized order, watching her undress this time was different than all of the other times that he watched her strip herself down to her underwear before stripping herself naked. She looked at and toyed with her underwear and shoes in the way that he'd look at and play with her underwear and shoes, if only he was there with her in her room. If only she knew how much he enjoyed seeing her in her underwear, no doubt deemed a pervert by all standards of having a perverse fetish for panties, bras, and high heels, she'd think him a pervert and she'd be correct. If ever she saw him having his wicked way with her underwear and shoes in the way he wished he could and in the way she just had, he only wished he was allowed in her room to touch, feel, and sniff her underwear. The only thing better than touching, feeling, and sniffing her underwear was touching, feeling, and smelling her while she wore her underwear and high heeled shoes.

Now seeing her in her bra and after seeing her underwear so openly displayed on her bed, having more of an intimate appreciation for her undergarments, he imagined seeing her model all of her other bras that created a hill of bra cups on her bed. A paradise playground for a perverted man with a perverse fetish for panty, bras, and shoes, if he was in her room with her now, he'd launch himself on her bed and roll around on her panties and bras while reaching down to pick up, fondle, and lick her shoes. He'd loved to scale her pile of bras one slow bra at a time. Hoping she has as much of a fetish for panties, bras, and shoes as he has and as Liz has, by the sheer number of panties, bras, and shoes she has, obviously she does.

He'd love for her to give him an underwear fashion show while walking around in her high heels. Now having watched her unbutton her blouse to expose her white, lacy bra, figuring she was wearing matching, white bikini panties too, he couldn't wait to see which panties she was wearing. Not that he was complaining but, as a prelude to her masturbation show, it was the same, striptease show every night. In the sexy way she's always done and in the sexy way she moves, he couldn't wait to see her parading around her room in her underwear before stripping naked and before brushing her beautiful, long, blonde hair while naked at her vanity table. Then, as she's so often done before, she'd masturbate herself while William and Liz watched and masturbated themselves too.

A sexual fantasy come true and a sexual fantasy he never thought he'd have but more of a possibility now with her undressing in front of him every night, he wished he could hold her and kiss her while she wore her bra and panty. He envied all of her on-camera lovers who had the sensually erotic pleasure of holding her and kissing her while she wore her sexy underwear. He envied the men who stripped off her bra and panty before having sex with her.

"I'd give anything to feel her body through her bra and panty while kissing her and before having sex with her," he said.

Tracing every line and every minute detail of her bra with his fingertips, he wished he could fondle her breasts and finger her nipples through her bra. Getting an erection just seeing her bra clad breasts, a most erotic pleasure for him to see, he'd loved to spend an hour just feeling her breasts through her bra while holding her and kissing her. Exotically sensual and erotically sexually, there's nothing like the feel of a woman's breasts through her bra, The fact that these are Susan's breasts that he was seeing, he'd be in Heaven just to touch her breasts, feel her breasts, fondle her breasts, and caress her breasts through her bra. In the way he loved her and lusted over her, he loved and lusted over her panties, bras, and shoes too.

"I love her sexy underwear," he said. "I'd love to walk in her shoes."

Feeling the soft cotton and fingering the silk and/or satin, he wished he could feel her ass through her panty. With his hand and fingers still in contact with her sexy panty, he wished he could cup her pussy in his palm through her panty before pushing her panty aside and fingering her. After having his wicked way with her pussy and her ass through her panty and her breasts and nipples through her bra, he wished he could not only remove her panty and bra but also dress her in her panty and bra. Just as he'd love to remove them both, he'd loved to put her bra on her and help her on with her panty.

Imagining her inviting him in the dressing room, he'd loved to take her shopping to buy her even more panties, bras, and shoes. He wished he could spend a day with her picking out her panty, bra, and shoes before helping her put on her panty, bra, and shoes, and before removing her panty, bra, and shoes. A sexual fantasy come true, he'd loved to spend the day with her while she wore her seductive underwear and walked around the house in her high heeled shoes. Figuring that she'd humor him, no doubt, she'd think him nuts but he didn't care.

"Oh, yeah, I'd undress her if I could and I'd dress her if I could," he said while watching her.

So enamored with her and with her sexy underwear, he wished there was a porn movie of her just walking around in her bra and panty. If there was a porn movie of her in her underwear, watching it over and again while masturbating to it, he'd watch it every day, multiple times a day. Yet even better than that, he had the live show right across the street from his window. From her bedroom to his office, she was right there every night for him to watch her undressing.

Only, as if she was his actress and he were her director, he'd love to direct her to do the things that he'd love to watch her do over and again. He'd love to watch her pulling her panties tight up against her crotch to highlight her camel toe and her ass crack. He'd love to watch her bend over and put her upside down face between her legs and smile while he photographed her. He'd love to watch her stripping naked while asking her to wear that bra or this panty with those shoes. With her stripping naked and masturbating in front of him while knowing full well that he and his wife were watching her, he wondered if she'd ever invite him and/or his wife in her home to watch an in-person striptease and masturbation show. If she's already gone this far in allowing them to see her strip naked before masturbating, he wondered if she'd ever invite him and/or Liz to have sex with her.

"Why not? If she's already giving me a sexy, nightly striptease show while knowing full well that I'm watching, why wouldn't she invite me over her house for a touch, feel, and sniff show? If she's masturbated in front of me while watching me masturbate in front of her, why wouldn't she want more?" He was aroused by the thought of her inviting not only him but also his wife to a personal viewing her sexy striptease, modeling show, and masturbation show before engaging in a sexual threesome.

If she wasn't who she was, a famous porn star and the woman of his sexual fantasies come true and if she wasn't so stunningly beautiful and so naturally sexy, no doubt, becoming accustomed to watching her undress and seeing her naked, he would have tired of her striptease show by now. Only seeing her undress every night was always different from the night before. Somehow, she made her show fresh by adding a new twist with a look, a gesture, taking a new route around her room, and by wearing different colors and styles of panties and bras. Now with her undressing before him again, he stared at her as if seeing her undressing and seeing her in her bra for the first time. Only she could give him such sexual excitement with the same nightly show. Only she could give him such sexual pleasure while he masturbated to her undressing. 

"I love you Susan," he said fingering his cock through his pants.

Continuing to slowly unbutton her blouse one slow sexually teasing button at a time, she removed her blouse and hung her shirt over her bedpost. That move, hanging her blouse over the bedpost, was certainly new. Normally, she'd just toss her clothes on the bed in the way of expelling one of her spent lovers when done with him as she's done with so many of her lovers in her porn movies. Only, with her panties and bras filling her bed, there was no room for her clothes, obviously the reason why she took the time to hang her blouse instead of just tossing it on the bed.

In the way he wished she'd pay him special attention by looking over at him watching her, he watched her lean down to reposition her blouse on her bedpost so that it wouldn't fall after it slipped and nearly fell to the floor. The act of seeing her cleavage with the entire side profile of her left breast hanging forward in her bra gave him an image of her leaning over him to give him a kiss while wearing her lacy, white bra. He imagined her leaning over him to take his cock in her mouth while she wore her sexy bra. He imagined feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples through her bra while she sucked him and allowed his horny hands free reign with her bra clad breasts.

"I'd love to cum in her sexy mouth while feeling her big tits and fingering her nipples through her bra," he said.

As far as William was concerned, because he had such a real panty, bra, and shoe fetish, having sex with a woman in her underwear and high heels was just as exciting if not more exciting as having sex with a naked woman. He imagined touching her bra and feeling her panty. He imagined chasing her around the house while she wore her underwear. Imagining all the fun he could have running around the house from room to room while playing tickle and chase before wrestling with her on the bed upon capture, he'd loved to play sexy games with her while she was in her underwear. Forget about her being naked as she is in most of her porn movies, he loved to make out with her while she wore her bra and panty.

"Don't take it off," he imagined saying to her when she reached around behind herself to unhook her bra. "I'd like to make out with you while you're wearing your sexy underwear before removing your bra and panty myself, if you don't mind."

If she was his woman and he was her man, he'd have her walk around the house in her sexy lingerie with heels all day and all the time. He imagined her doing housework and cooking while wearing an apron over her bra and panties, an apron that had an image of a bra and panty and that appeared that she wasn't even wearing an apron, just wearing her bra and panty. With an arm casually tossed around her shoulders, he imagine playing with her bra strap before feeling her breasts and fingering nipples through her bra while watching TV. He imagined his other hand feeling her ass through her panty and/or gently resting on her leg and playing with her pussy through her panty. Shocking men to stare and receiving disapproving leers from women, he imagined her going outside to get the mail and answering the front door in that sexy outfit.

Then she unbuttoned, unzipped, and wiggled herself out of her tight jeans. He watched her exposing her panty to him when pulling her pants slowly down. He loved how she looked in jeans nearly as much as how she looked when wearing a short skirt, a skirt so short that he didn't know how she could sit without flashing her panties to anyone lucky enough to be sitting across from her. Without a doubt, a sight to behold was seeing her beautiful legs exposed in a skirt too short to sit. The only sight better than seeing her long, shapely legs was seeing a flash of her panties when she sat and/or crossed and uncrossed her legs. She looked as incredible in her painted on jeans as she did in her skirts too short. Nonetheless whether she wore short skirts or tight jeans, his favorite vision of her was seeing her in her bra and panty. His sexual fetish fantasy come true, he truly loved seeing her in her underwear.

"She has such an incredible body. I love her body. Always a breast man before, she's making me into an ass man now too," he said while watching her. "As much as I love her breasts and her legs, I love her ass."

He had the enviable combination of having panty, bra, and shoe fetishes that more materialized now while watching her, especially when seeing all three at once as he was now with her displaying all of her panties and bras on her bed with her shoes lined up in front of her bed while undressing. He had the enviable position of being able to sit in his office while watching her parade around her room in her panty and bra before she stripped herself naked. Obviously she knew that he and his wife were watching her every sexy move. After having made so many porn movies, maybe she didn't want, notice, or even care that she didn't have any privacy with her uncovered windows.

In the professional way she acted naked on film, she walked around her glass house as if the cameras were still rolling. Already being bored by now, seeing anyone else in their panties, bras, and high heeled shoes wouldn't be nearly as arousing as seeing Susan in that sexy outfit. Easily, she could have been a Playboy Playmate. He could just see her walking around the Playboy mansion in her sexy lingerie while doting on Hugh Hefner.

"I never tire of seeing her in her underwear," said William while watching her undressing.

With her blouse and jeans removed, she had stripped herself down to her bra and panty. Expecting to see more in watching her walk around her room in her sexy lingerie, she always normally did that before stripping herself naked. Only she surprised him again when she reached around herself and unhooked her bra. 

"That's not in the script," he said raising his binoculars to watch. "What is she doing?"

Again, as if seeing her breasts for the first time, her big, D cup tits were right there before his horny eyes. So round and so shapely, if he didn't know they were all natural, he'd think they were surgically enhanced and silicon confections of what some plastic surgeon thought a woman's breasts should look and feel like. Even though he's never felt breasts that have silicone implants, he just knew that he'd prefer natural breasts to fake ones.

Especially when looking at her naked breasts through his high powered binoculars, he felt as if he could reach out and feel and fondle her big breasts while fingering her erect nipples. He wondered if she could see him watching her. He wondered if she could see him watching her through his binoculars. With her not caring that he could see her, he didn't care that she could see him. Obviously, the perfect scenario for a voyeuristic man with a panty, bra, and shoe fetish and the perfect scenario for an exhibitionist, porn star of a woman, she wanted him to watch her as much as he wanted to watch her.

Always excited to see them, he loved zooming in on her areolas and nipples. Back and forth, moving the zoom lens in and out, the quickness of the zoom gave him the sensation that he was leaning in to her big breasts to take her nipples in his mouth. Glad that he bought these binoculars, he was glad that he was finally getting the chance to use them.

Then, unceremoniously, even though there was a drum roll going off in his head, she shimmied herself out of her panty. He loved how she had that cute little tuft of blonde hair to show that she was a real blonde. He imagined himself playing with her pubic hair while fingering her. He imagined himself playing with her pubic hair while licking her. So close and yet so far, just as were her tits, her pussy was seemingly right there before his horny hands but she was actually dozens of yard away in the house across the street.

If he was with her in her room now, before she removed her panties and asking her not to remove her panties just yet, he'd fall to his knees and lick her pussy through her panties. In the way that he wished her panties got wet for him, he'd make her panties sopping wet with his tongue before removing them with his teeth. Touching her panties with her still in them or out of them, never mind licking her panties while she wore them, was another one of his sexual fantasies. With him being so inactive sexually, forgetting that he even had them, she brought all of his sexual fetishes to the surface. Suddenly making him feel younger, she made him feel like the sexual pervert that he was again. Leave it to a younger woman to make an older man feel vital again, especially when that younger woman was willingly flashing him her body while watching him flash her his body too.

Sometimes as if more enamored with the pretty gift wrap of a package than with the content of what's inside, that's how William sometimes felt about seeing women in their bras and panties. Generally, women looked better in their bra and panties than they did naked. Susan was one of the rare exceptions to his rule. Because her body was so shapely and her breasts so perfect, she looked equally as hot in her underwear as she did naked. Only, instead of just tossing the gift wrap aside after unwrapping herself by removing her bra and panty, if he was with her, he'd save her gift wrap and cherish her bra and panties as much as he'd cherish her naked body.

"Damn she's such a beautiful woman," he said.

Now that she was naked, in the way she always did before, he expected her to move to the vanity table to brush her blonde hair. With a view of the back of her from her bedroom windows and a view of the front of her from her vanity mirror, he loved watching her sitting there naked while brushing her beautiful hair. Yet, mixing up her bedroom, undressing routine and giving him a whole new show to maintain his voyeuristic interest and sexual excitement, she didn't move to the vanity table. Instead, she turned to the side to stare down at her bed of underwear in the way that he surely would if he were there in her room with her or without her.




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 11



"Wow. She's looking down at her underwear in the way I wish I could," he said.

As exciting as it was to see her in her underwear, it was just as exciting for him to see all of her underwear in one spot on the bed, especially when she was looking at her underwear with him. She looked at her underwear as if she was in a lingerie shop looking to see which items to try on before buying them. A sexy, voyeuristic sight he'd love to see, he imagined her giving the bored husbands and restless boyfriends a show of her nude body while they waited outside of her dressing room for their wives and girlfriends. He imagined her curtain opened just enough for them to watch her trying on bras. He imagined her purposely exposing her breasts to them while acting obvious that they could see and that they were watching. Taking the sexy vision of her home with them, he imagined the men masturbating over her in the way that he does every day.

While she stared down at her collection of panties, bras, and shoes, he stared over at her. It was always more fun to watch her when she was in the act of doing something, even if it was watching her just staring at her underwear. The professional actress that she was, as if her bedroom windows were the cameras, she seldom looked at her bedroom windows and she seldom looked over at him, unless she was looking over at him while watching him masturbating over her. Loving how she looked from every angle, he especially loved how she looked from the side. With her flat, toned stomach and her round, firm ass, he really could see the enormity of her massive breasts from the side in the way that he couldn't see the immense size of them from the front. 

Giving them more of three a dimensional perspective, even though her breasts looked so big from all angles, they looked even larger when seeing them from the side, especially when she leaned forward without wearing her bra. He loved how the bottom of her breasts curved upward in the way he remembered when looking up at a painting by a famous, 17th century master artist. As if her breasts were her twin, full moons basking in the radiance of her beautiful face, with her eyes their smiling twin suns, she had the face and the body that men fought one another to possess. His very own Goddess living across the street from him, if this was the time of the Crusades, men would go to war for the chance to be in her head, to win her hand, and to live forever in her heart.

Only, looking at her and viewing her as if she wasn't real but a painting or an image on a big screen, he had no idea how she felt inside. When he more cared about her panties, her bras, her shoes, and her naked body, how could he possibly know how she feels inside? Keeping her emotions hidden and never revealing how she truly felt, he didn't know that she was the type of woman who'd never tell him or any man how she truly felt. In the way that so many other beautiful women through the ages felt after being ruined and emotional twisted when sexually abused, she was the type of woman that no one man could ever possess. After having been forced by one too many men, she'd never freely give herself to any man. It's not that she didn't want to willingly submit to a man, she couldn't. Easier for her to open her mouth and her legs, she didn't even know how and where to begin to open her heart to a man.

To be continued... 



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 12



Who is Susan Jill Parker? If only William knew, would he still want her?

In the way that Zsa Zsa Gabor, Debbie Reynolds, Elizabeth Taylor, and so many others willingly gave their bodies to so many men and promised their love to so many husbands, these beautiful sex sirens were unable to willingly submit enough of themselves to give them their hearts. Even though those women and women like them who were all so beautiful on the outside, forever damaged and tragically broken, they were all so empty and dead on the inside. In the way of a zombie mindlessly going through the motions of vicariously living life by watching how others interact with one another, the walking and unfeeling dead, how can someone so beautiful on the outside be so ugly and vacant on the inside? When it came to feeling normal emotions, desensitized, demoralized, and feeling guilty that being sexually abused was all somehow their fault, there was no one home and the messages of emotionally caring for their lover went unanswered.

Hiding behind their smiling masks of makeup, their endless numbers of plastic surgeries, and their expensive, custom tailored wardrobes, survivors of sexual abuse swept what happened to them under the rug by preferring to show who they're not rather than who they are. Afraid and unable to show who they are for fear they'd be rejected, the sexually abused women of the world soothe and numb their pain with alcohol, drugs, and/or sex but never with love. Unable to confess their dark secrets that would expose the monster that they have hidden inside, they're doomed to be alone even when with their boyfriend, their husband, their lesbian lover, and/or with a room full of people. Just wanting to be left alone and preferring the quiet to the static that runs through their heads in the way of an endless freight train grinding steel on steel, too haunted by the past to live in the present, they dread the future. Unable to give what the other wants, they run from love and from any romantic and emotional relationship where they are forced to feel and confront something that invades their being and that makes them feel trapped and uncomfortable.

Concentrating his attention more on his fetishes than on her, William didn't have a clue who Susan Jill Parker was. How could he? Other than watching her act in her porn films, he thought he knew her by watching her in porn movies but he didn't know who she was when not on camera. Maybe afraid that the sexual fantasy bubble that he has of her would burst and he'd be disappointed, he didn't want to take the time to know who she was. More focused on the outside package, maybe it was as simple as he didn't care who she was on the inside. More focused on her bras, on her panties, and on her shoes, even though he'd say differently, he didn't even care about her in the way he cared for his cold, bitchy wife of thirty-something years. More focusing his eyes, his mind, and his heart on her beauty and on something so elusive and on something that he could never possess, the fleeting image of a sexual fantasy, he more stared at her underwear clad and naked body than at the woman herself.

Who was she? He may thought he knew and surely he did on the surface, but he really didn't know her. Why did she move here, of all the places that she could have lived, when she could have lived anywhere? This is a mature neighborhood of older residents. There's nothing here for her but quiet while watching the neighbors being taken out in ambulances one by one to live the rest of the lives in nursing homes before being taken to the morgue and buried in the cemetery. Surely, of all the hip places to live, this wasn't the neighborhood that would welcome a porn star, if only they knew she was a porn star. Other than he and his wife knowing what she did for a living to make her living, always wearing sunglasses, baggy clothes, and a hat to hide her fame, no one else knew.

Other than that she was a porn star, the little that he read of her in her online biography, and that she was his sexy neighbor who paraded around her bedroom in her underwear before stripping naked and masturbating, he didn't know anything else about her. With his voyeurism and fetishes for her panties, bras, and high heeled shoes getting in the way of his commonsense, if only William knew what he was seeing wasn't really Susan Jill Parker at all, would he still be as enamored with her and as sexually attracted to her as he is now? Chances are, content just to watch her flaunt her underwear clad and naked body to him, not wanting to take the time to explore the inner workings of her, other than continuing his sexual fantasy, he probably would no longer be interested in having a relationship with her. Being that he already had a wife and a life, why would he dare want a mistress who live across the street from his house?

Troubled, problematic, damaged, and an emotional mess, she'd never reveal the real woman that hid behind her pain, her sorrow, and behind her mask of makeup to anyone, especially not to him. Hiding behind her perfectly pretty facade, she was just acting when she stripped down to her underwear and when she gave him her naked striptease show before masturbating herself in the way that he and his wife did too. Every night she gave him an encore performance and every night he watched while masturbating with her. Only he made the mistake of thinking that she was just as perversely perverted as he was. She wasn't perversely perverted at all. He thought she was just as sexually satisfied by exposing her body to him as much as he was sexually excited in watching her expose her body to him before masturbating to him masturbating with her. Even though she was a porn star, a good, moral, conservative woman of character, in the way that Marie Osmond dresses sexy against her Mormon religion, just playing a role, she may be sexy but, in real life, she wasn't slutty. Moreover, hard to believe being that she was a porn star, she wasn't even sexual at all.

Sexually abused at young ages, all three woman, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Debbie Reynolds, and Elizabeth Taylor, and so many others like them, Oprah Winfrey, Queen Latifah, Susan Somers, Vanessa Williams, Mary J. Blige, McKensie Phillips, Teri Hatcher, and Ashley Judd, all shared the same, horrible, dark secrets that Susan hid behind her smiling, happy demeanor. Able to readily strip off her clothes and get naked on a director's cue, yet emotionally detached from the sexy scenes, she was too vulnerable and too angry to give any more of herself other than her naked, physical body. A survivor of sexual abuse, with her self-esteem and confidence battered but somehow still intact to continue to keep her safe from the onslaught of men still wanting to sexually abuse her, she struggled not to crumble when most days she'd just want to curl up in the fetal position and sleep.

Most days, when she wasn't sad and when she wasn't clinically depressed, she was angry. Yet, no matter how she felt, she'd never remove the pretense behind her eyes that kept her safe from men getting too close to her, close enough to hurt her again. One more man hurting her by forcing her to do something sexual that she didn't want to do may put her over the edge. Willing to allow men to control her by paying her huge sums of money to pretend that she enjoyed having sex, men could control her body but they'd never control her mind. The Oscars of porn, if only those in charge knew how much she acted while having sex for money, they'd give her the AVN award for the best female in a starring role.

No longer a victim, instead now turning the tables on men with her intelligence, it took her a while to discover how to use men with her shapely body and control men with her beautiful face. It took her a while to find the outlet to do what making porn movies has helped her to do in feeling safely removed from all of those men who want her and who've hurt her. Just an acting role to her, men may have sex with her, but she'd never feel about them the way they feel about her. With something missing inside, she couldn't possibly want them and love them in the way they loved and lusted over her. She had a blockage in her head and in her heart that stopped her from loving anyone, even herself, especially herself. With her emotions severed as if cut with a knife, love didn't exist to her only sex did.

As characterized by her porn star occupation and her need to be admired for her beauty and lusted over for her sexuality, William had no idea that her mind was so troubled. How could he possibly know she was so emotionally disturbed when her face and body were so beautiful? Her mind was her safe place to disappear and to go when needing to be alone with her sad self. No doubt watching her on the evening news one day, she'd be one of those people who'd shoot and kill the dozen men who had sexually and secretly abused her, before the police shot her dead or before she killed herself. Never just having one abuser, as if sexual abusers knew those who were the most vulnerable, every sexually abused victim had more than one abuser. Instead of being a happy housewife with children, she'd be one of those people that the neighbors would be clueless about who she really was.

"Always keeping to herself, never any trouble, she seemed so nice. We had no idea she was angry enough to murder her uncle, her cousin, her four brothers, and her producer, director, and co-stars. She was always so happy and friendly. She was so very beautiful. How someone so beautiful could be such a cold blooded, calculating killer amazes me," her neighbors, no doubt, would say on the evening news after hearing about and reading about the tragic incident. "We had no idea she was a porn star."

Unable to have a normal relationship and unable to feel love in the way that others feel love, not even given a chance to feel anything, early on, sexual abuse ruined how she felt about love and about men. Not trusting men, she feared and ran from men in the way she feared love and ran from love. Even though she had four, older brothers, never close to them in the way she should have been, perhaps because they were so much older than she was, they did nothing to help her other than to sexually use and abuse her.

Then when she finally gave enough of herself to fall in love, her ex emotionally abused her and routinely beat her. Slamming her head against a wall, choking her and slapping her, he took pleasure in pushing her down the stairs. Promising he'd never hurt her again, he'd apologize to her and buy her something nice or take her somewhere expensive. Back to normal, their relationship was all good, until his demons surfaced again and until the violent, physical abuse happened again. Knowing she so wanted a child and to have children, the last straw was when he told her that he secretly had a vasectomy two years before. Blaming herself for not being able to conceive, they had been trying for two years to have a child.

As if a steel curtain shuttered her mind against men and against falling in love again, as far as she was concerned, her love life was over. The only thing left was empty, meaningless sex, the kind of sex that came with prostitution and/or pornography. Deciding against prostitution, even though she was prostituting herself by having sex in a porn movie for money, she was done with men as lovers but not done with men as her way to earn a living as a porn star in porn movies. In the way that men used her before, she'd use them now.

Because she never knew her father, she always searched for her Daddy. Always looking for Daddy in her attraction to older men, she grew up without a father. With her mother an incestuous whore and a prostitute, when she discovered that her mother had been having sex with her four brothers for twenty years and when her brothers started sexually abusing her, she suspected that it was one of her brothers who fathered her. How fucked up is that? For years, wishing she had been aborted, she carried that incestuous guilt around with her that she was nothing more than an incestuous freak of nature and that no one wanted or loved her other than for sex. Giving men sex was the only thing she had left to use for her to get what she so wanted and needed. Being that she was already so spoiled and so damaged, having nothing more to lose but for her self-respect, sex was what defined her and sex was what men wanted. Sex, sex, sex, it was all about sex and now that the decision was hers, she was willing to trade sex for money.

If she was given a preference, in the way of Marlene Dietrich, she just wanted to be left alone. She had enough money squirreled away to isolate herself if being left alone was what she really wanted. She'd never have to bother with another man and have sex again, if that's what she really wanted. Now that she had a successful movie career and lots of money, she didn't need men in the way that she needed men before. Making a silent pledge in the way of making a New Year's resolution, forever to be stricken from her life, she was done with men.

It's tragically funny how a porn star would rather live her life alone and without a man than with a man. Yet, oxymoronically, still beckoning for sexual attention and still wanting men's adulation, admiration, and applause, here she was stripping herself naked and masturbating herself in front of her windows for her new, male neighbor to see. Why? Why here? Why now? Why him? Old enough to be her father, why did she feel compelled to expose her body to her older neighbor who lived across the street from her?

An 18-year-old virgin and an easy victim when her innocence was taken from her in the way that it was taken by her uncle and her virginity stolen from her by her older cousin, sexually used and abused, her emotional growth was tragically stunted. She trusted her uncle and her cousin not to hurt and rape her but they did. Never reaching adulthood with her sound mind intact, she was still that lost, frightened, little girl now that she was then. Never given the chance, she never had the opportunity to fully emotionally mature for her to feel all the real, raw emotions that a woman should feel when going through the rites of passage of falling in love. Instead of something beautiful, pleasurable, and enjoyable, sex was something dirty, forbidden, and forced. Not even able to trust her own brothers, with her four brothers constantly at her, saying inappropriate, sexual things to her, groping her, exposing themselves to her, and trying to see her naked, she never felt the normal emotion of wanting and needing a man. Not nearly the same, she only felt the lustful emotion of a man wanting, needing, and lusting over her.

Truth be told, even though she continued having sex with men, she hated men. Having sex with men was just a job to her, a job that she excelled at doing when on the movie set and the director called, "Action!" Able to turn it on and turn it off, the only real feelings she had left were saved for the camera and for her co-star. As big and as looming as a boogie man who lived in her closet, always there was the fear and the lack of trust that kept her at a distance from all men, especially her relatives.

In the way that she hated and feared men, one would think that someone like her would be lesbian and maybe she was lesbian. When on camera, she made love to women in the way she made love to men. In the way that she kissed a woman and showed passion for a woman was if she was having sex with a man. She could be a lesbian but she wasn't. Kissing and making love to a woman on screen was just another role she played when acting. If given the choice, she more enjoyed kissing and making love to a man.

Just as she acted when making love with men, she acted the same way when making love with women. Just a part to play, she'd remove herself from the role by taking her mind elsewhere while she sucked, licked, and fucked her co-stars. One would think that an actress who removed herself from the scene was doing an injustice to the movie, but no one knew that she wasn't there when the camera was shooting the sex scenes. Still able to convincingly play her part, in the same sad regard, acting while having sex in a porn movie was much like being sexually abused. Having learned at an early age that she must endure to survive, she's well practiced in doing things that she not only hated to do but also was forced to do. Now, at least she was paid money to do them.

In watching her in her porn films and in seeing her standing there naked now, William thought he knew Susan. For her to strip naked and masturbate in front of him while watching him strip naked and masturbate in front of her, he thought she was attracted to him. Especially after watching her model her panty, bra, and high heeled shoes for him nightly, he thought she wanted him. Using him, a month of panty after panty, bra after bra, and shoe after shoe, meaning more to him than it did to her, acting again, her nightly modeling for him in her sexy underwear was just a show to her and nothing more. Being that her bra and panties were already there on the bed and her shoes were lined up in front of the bed, he only wished he could watch her model all of her panties, all of her bras, and all of her shoes on the same night.

He couldn't be more wrong about her. For him to think that she was attracted enough to him to want him, he didn't know her at all. How could he possibly know how she felt inside when he was so taken and so focused only with the outside package and on her sexy lingerie? Even though he saw her, stared at her, and leered at her, he wasn't seeing who she is. To imagine that someone so sexual on the outside wasn't sexual at all on the inside would be impossible for him to understand.

Other than her online profile, he didn't know much about her. Just seeing an empty shell of who she was and who she could have been, he didn't know her background. More caring about seeing her in her bra and in her panty while walking around her bedroom in her high heeled shoes, before seeing her naked, he never wondered why she did the things she did. Just glad that she modeled for him in her underwear before stripping herself naked and masturbating, he was just happy that she was exposing herself and playing with herself in front of him.

Glad that she continued with her nightly show of exhibitionism and voyeurism, even when knowing that she was being watched, he never wondered why she became a porn star. Too focused on her underwear clad and naked body, he was just glad that she was. Reliving the experience all over again in her porn movies, he didn't know that she never forgot what it felt like to be so touched and so forced to do the sexual things that she was forced to do when she didn't want to do what men forced her to do. Having sex without enjoying it, without taking pleasure in it, and not receiving any sexual satisfaction from it, if only he knew that she always dreaded being touched, felt, fondled, groped, caressed, and kissed, he'd be shocked. If only he knew how she really felt, how someone like her could be a porn star would be beyond his comprehension.

How could he possibly know that someone so perfect on the outside was so broken on the inside? He had no idea that someone who looked like her could feel the way she did, sadly depressed and increasingly angry, scratch the surface and she had a rage that surfaced from out of the blue. Moreover, obviously and honestly, even if he knew, he wouldn't care why someone who looked like her was so broken and so angry. If he had taken the time to learn more about her and to understand her, perhaps he'd have a better chance of bedding her. The exact opposite to men, women didn't care what a man looked like on the outside or about their chronological age. They more cared about how the man treated them, respected them, and provided for them.




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 12



Seemingly a success, she was a tragedy. Seemingly loving sex and all things sexual, she hated sex and all things sexual. If only he knew how she felt inside was the same way that Zsa Zsa Gabor, Debbie Reynolds, and Elizabeth Taylor and so many other so called sex symbols felt inside too, he'd wonder about all of Hollywood's glamorous women. With nothing real and tangible when making a movie, filled with lights, action, cameras, and glitter, tinsel town was just as make believe as was Disney World. The only thing that was real happened after the lights and the cameras were turned off and when everyone returned home to their little lives.

Even the paid actors, especially the paid actors weren't real. Just acting, they just played a part. No more and no less, they were who their fans imagined them to be. Just as their fans thought they knew them from their movie roles, they didn't know them at all. Just as her fans thought they knew her from her porn movie roles, they were clueless to who she was and William, one of her biggest fans, didn't know who Susan was either.

Even though it was speculated otherwise, that President Kennedy had her killed, if William took the time to learn more about survivors of sexual abuse, maybe then he'd understand why someone as beautiful as Marilyn Monroe committed suicide and why Susan Jill Parker made porn movies. Instead, rather than taking the time to unravel the mystery of her, he was more interested in her panties, her bras, and her high heeled shoes. Other than her being his sexy sex symbol, he more concentrated on his sexual fetishes than on her as a person.

Someone so beautiful on the surface shouldn't feel so ugly inside but unbeknownst to him, she did. Especially in the beginning when she was just starting her pornographic career, having to make love to producers on their casting couches, to directors in their homes, and to actors in their trailers to get the roles she got was painfully humiliating. If she turned them down for sex, with so many woman hoping for the same opportunity of playing a part in a porn movie and readily agreeing to give sex to anyone who demanded it, they'd give the role to someone else. Feeling sexually abused all over again, having forced and coerced sex when not on camera was even more humiliatingly disturbing than being paid to strip naked and have sex in a porn film. When making a movie, she was just acting or so she convinced herself for the sake of earning a living. Once the cameras weren't rolling, going from make believe to reality, situations became real and too real to endure. It was much easier for her to remove her clothes when she controlled the action as she did now stripping for William.

Moreover, one would think that someone who felt the way she did about intimacy and sex would never become a stripper, a prostitute, or a porn star. One would think that someone who couldn't feel love would never make love. Yet routinely, as if sexually abused women were bitten by vampires, drawn to sex and sexual situations that compelled them to forever relive the horror of being sexually abused by men, women who had similar sexual experiences all fell into that same dark abyss. In the way that her porn movies filled the minds of men with their dirty dreams and sexual fantasies, she belonged to all men but never to just one.

To be continued...



Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 13



Watching Susan undress and model in her underwear, William wished he was in her room with her.

All so surreal with Susan standing in her bedroom and in plain sight of his office windows from her bedroom windows, William felt as if was watching a live peep show from his office. He watched her looking down at her assembled underwear stacked and organized on her bed and her rows of shoes lining the front of her bed in the way that he'd love to look at her collection of sexy panties, bras, and shoes. If only he was there with her in her bedroom, knowing that they touched her breasts, rubbed against her pussy, and her covered her sexy feet, he'd pick up and handle every panty and every bra before fondling every shoe.

In the way he imagined her going through a photograph album, he watched her lovingly touching her panties, as if each panty saved a memory of a porn movie and/or an image of her in a sexual role. She'd need to showcase even more panties, bras, and shoes for her to preserve all the pornographic images that cameras captured of her and for all the roles she's played. In the way that he wished he could touch them too, he watched her going from one panty to another panty with her fingers poised to pick the perfect one to wear.

Which one would she choose? He didn't know but he had fun watching her while waiting for her to decide. Recognizing some of her underwear from her dozens of porn movies that he watched her acting in while masturbating to them, only a man with a panty, bra, and shoe fetish would recognize her sexy lingerie and shoes, especially from across the street. If he were there with her now, he'd help her with her indecision in selecting which panty to wear. Imagining touching and feeling all of her panties and bras as if she was wearing them, he'd be happy to hold up one pair of panty before suggesting another. He couldn't wait to see which panty she'd choose to wear.

"Pick the yellow one," he whispered, certainly too far away for her to hear him.

Yet, as if she heard him and as if she could read his horny mind through her bedroom windows to know what he was thinking from across the street through his office windows, psychically from the dozens of choices she had, she reached for a yellow pair of panty. As if she was getting dressed in a porn movie and as if his eyes were the camera lens, she turned to face him without looking at him and held up her yellow panty for him to see as if examining it before stepping into it. Oddly enough, after all the times he watched her undress, he's never seen her dress.

Making more sense that he'd more want her undressed than dressed, more enamored with watching her taking off her clothes than with her putting on her clothes, all of his sexual fantasies were of her undressing and not of her dressing. All of his sexual fantasies of her were mixed with his sexual fetishes of seeing her strutting around her room in her panty, bra, and high heeled shoes. Unable to separate her from his sexual fantasies and perverse fetishes and not even wanting to, she was his perfect woman. Having plenty of peccadilloes and idiosyncrasies that anyone else would think odd, especially someone who didn't have panty, bra, and shoe fetishes, little did he know that his perfect woman wasn't so perfect and was twisted by her own need to expose herself to unsuspecting men.

For some strange reason, after prancing around her bedroom naked every night, when she dressed herself in the morning, she always dressed in the bathroom with the door closed. For someone who was obviously an exhibitionist and always so exposed, other than to use the toilet, one would think that she'd never seek the privacy of a closed bathroom door to get dressed. Perhaps putting on her clothes was a more private process than taking off her clothes. Perhaps after having to remove her clothes for men for money and after entertaining him by stripping off her clothes in the evening, apparently putting on her clothes in her bathroom with the door closed was her safe haven and her private thing to do. With him being clueless, perhaps a game she enjoyed playing, he enjoyed thinking that she just wanted to surprise him with what she was going to wear. Whatever was her reason not to dress in front of him, whether she was fully dressed or naked, he always took great pleasure and pride in looking at her, watching her, and staring at her to see what she'd do next.

Still standing there topless and just wearing her panty to cover her nakedness, he loved staring at her big breasts. What would she do next? After shocking him, when she first moved in, by not covering her windows and walking around her bedroom in her panty and bra with her lights on, before stripping naked to masturbate on her bed, he had no idea what she'd do next. Someone he wished he could be more part of her life, she was just full of surprises. What she did next is remove all of her panties and bras from her drawers and line her shoes up in front of her bed. Glad that she did all that she did, he still didn't know why she did what she did. An enigma to him, unable to figure her out and unable to get in her head, he always wondered what she'd do next and was always surprised by what she did do next. 

For the time being, what she did next was to reach for a yellow matching bra. With just one white and one black panty, bra, and shoe combination that he could see, he more loved her colorful underwear coordinating with her matching shoes. He watched her move her hands through the bra straps, as if she was donning protective armored apparel for a SWAT or military assault. Certainly, in the way he loved her big tits and how he imagined they'd feel though her blouse and bra, if he was there with her now kissing her while feeling her, her bra would offer her little protection from his horny hands.

Now wearing his favorite outfit of choice, a sexy bra and a bikini panty, albeit yellow, he watched her step into a pair of yellow, high heeled shoes. Fully dressed to him, albeit still only in her underwear and high heeled shoes, he loved seeing her long legs, especially her muscled calves in high heels. She had such long, shapely legs, much longer and shapelier than Liz's legs. He could only imagine how her legs would feel to slowly move his hands up her legs and not stop until they reached her round, firm ass and her bald, shaven pussy.

"If I was a paid actor in one of her porn movies, I'd love to sexually molest her before having sex with her," he said what most men no doubt thought when seeing her fully dressed, in her panty and bra, or naked. "I'd love to push her upon her bed amidst her panties and bras and take her."

From posing at her bedroom windows, she walked to her full length mirror and posed there too. Able to see the front and the back of her at the same time, whenever she stood in front of her full length mirror or sat at her vanity table, seeing her in this way made him more feel that he was in the room with her. Obviously knowing that he was watching her, he always watched her. Compelled to watch her, he couldn't stop staring at her.

As if teasing him with her lingerie, she turned one way and then the other way to give him a complete show of her underwear clad body. As if she was a lingerie model or a swimsuit model, for her to model for him in the way that she was modeling for him now, it was as if she intuitively knew that not only was he watching her but also that he had a panty, bra, and shoe fetish. Having only spoken to her once, before his dumb dog peed on her leg, how would she know that he's so attached to panties, bras, and shoes? Yet, truth be told, what man didn't have a panty, bra, and high heeled shoe fetish especially with a woman who looked as good as she did when wearing and unabashedly modeling her panty, bra, and heels?

As if she was a bathing beauty contestant in a Miss America pageant contest, albeit modeling in her panty and bra instead of a bikini, he watched her walk from her bed to her mirror in her sexy underwear and high heel shoes before she walked around her room and returned to the bed. As if synchronized, his heart kept beat to the sexual movement of her lively hips. With his pulse rate racing, he imagined his breath steamed his office windows and her bedroom windows at the same time, even from this distance.

If she looked this good at 40-years-old, the same age as Jennifer Lopez, another one of his favorites but without the blonde hair and the big tits, he could only imagined what she looked like twenty, ten, or five years ago. Only he didn't have to imagine what she looked like when she was younger, as he already had her an entire collection of her captured on DVD's. As if watching her gracefully age in the way that he watched Shannon Tweed mature, Gene Simmons' of Kiss sexy wife, she was still an amazing beauty. In the way that Angie Dickinson, Jane Russell, Sophia Loren, and Grace Kelly were, no matter what their ages even in death, as far as he was concerned, still able to remember them the way they all once were, once a beautiful woman always a beautiful woman.

In the way that she'd pose in a photo shoot, she turned from side to side and leaned forward as if she was looking down her bra to see what he could see of her. Then, turning around and bending at the waist to see how her panty clad ass looked in the mirror, she looked at herself with him while wearing her yellow panties, yellow bra, and yellow high heels. As if both parts of her sexy body demanded equal attention, her big, beautiful breasts were in direct opposition to her round, firm ass. Looking from one to the other, ass to tits and ass to tits, he preferred seeing her image in its entirety instead of just looking at her in sections.

If he didn't know she was real, he'd imagine he was dreaming her and dreaming that he was watching her model in her sexy underwear. In the way that so many women today are obese, she was too shapely to be real. Few women looked like her. In the way that Coco, Ice T's wife, can burst out of her bikini with her too big ass and too big breasts for her otherwise petite proportions, conversely with Susan's long, lean, shapely body, she knew how to erotically model underwear without screaming pornography or bad taste. Yet, although she looked good in that sexy ensemble, after seeing her wear that color for a while, he didn't think that yellow was her color. Perhaps because of her blonde hair, she needed more of a contrast of colors than a coordination of colors.

Now that she was already out of her blouse and skin tight jeans and dressed only in her underwear, hoping it wasn't and hoping that the sexy revue was just beginning, he wondered if the show was over. Maybe she was going out tonight. Maybe she had a date with a man. He imagined a man feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples through her blouse and bra while kissing her. He imagined a man moving his hand up her short skirt to feel her ass and pussy through her panty. He imagined her unzipping him, pulling out his cock and stroking him before leaning down to take him in her mouth. Then, he imagined them making love before he imagined them fucking, really fucking, and fucking in the way that he wished he could fuck her.

"Lucky bastard," he said for no one to hear. "Some guys have all the luck. If only I was ten or twenty years younger, I'd make her want me."

Then, excited by the prospect of her being with a woman instead of a man, maybe she had a date with a woman. He imagined a woman feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples through her blouse and bra while kissing her. He imagined a woman moving her hand up her short skirt to feel her ass and pussy through her panty. He imagined a woman removing her panty in preparation to lick her pussy. He imagined a woman eating her, really licking and finger fucking her before making love to her with a strap-on and fucking her in the way he wished he could lick her and fuck her.

"Lucky bitch," he said for no one to hear. "Some gals have all the luck. If only I was lesbian, I'd make her want me. Wait," he said out loud with a laugh. "In the way that I love women, I am lesbian."

Instead of going out on the date that he imagined she was going with a man or with a woman, he wished she'd stay home and model more panties, bras, and shoes for him. His favorite sexy image to see, he could spend his entire day watching her walk around her bedroom wearing her bra, panty, and high heeled shoes while he masturbated to the sexy sight of her in her underwear and heels. He loved watching her giving him a lingerie and shoe fashion show. His own, personal Victoria Secrets supermodel, he wished he was in her room with her while sniffing her panties and feeling her bras. He wished he could select which panty, bra, and shoe she should model next. Alas, his custom, personalized, fantasy lingerie fashion show wasn't to be.

He wished he was the lucky bastard or bitch dating her. He wished he was the lucky bastard or bitch kissing her while feeling her body through her panty, bra and touching her high heeled shoes before being allowed to remove her panty, bra, and high heeled shoes. Only, with his fetishes taking precedence over his need to have sex with her, rather than bedding her, he'd much rather dress her in another panty, bra, and high heeled shoe outfit first. If he couldn't make out with her while feeling her body through her bra and panty, he was content just to watch her walking around her room in her sexy lingerie and high heeled shoes.

He imagined spending his day removing her underwear and shoes to dress her in different sets of underwear and shoes. He imagined dressing her in all the panties and bras she had on her bed and in all the shoes that lined the front of her bed. If only she'd allow him to do that, as if he was his fashion designer or man-in-waiting instead of lady-in-waiting, she'd make his sexual fantasy come true. Then, finally, once she modeled enough panties, bras, and shoes for him, sufficiently sexually satisfied seeing and feeling her in her panties, bras, and shoes, he imagined having sex with her.

He imagined kissing her while feeling her big tits through her bra before fingering her nipples to erection. Leaving big wet spots and staining her bras with his saliva, he imagined sucking her nipples through her bra while reaching around her to feel her round, firm ass through her bikini panties. Unhooking her bra with one hand, he imagined leaving her bra in place and watching her brassiere slowly expose her breasts with every slow movement of her sexy, shapely body while kissing and kissing her. He imagined tracing her pussy slit with his finger before pushing her panty aside to enter her with his fingers. He imagined stripping her naked and mounting her. He imagined making love to her before fucking her, really pounding her pussy. He imagined her wanting him just as much he wanted her.

Of course, being that this was just his sexual fantasy, obviously, none of what he hoped would happen would ever happen. Yet, surprised that he's come this far so soon in seeing her strip naked and masturbate on her bed, he was fortunate to have seen as much of her as he already has. Serendipitously lucky that she bought the house across the street, he was serendipitously lucky to have watched her strip down to her underwear before stripping naked and masturbating. He was serendipitously lucky to be allowed to masturbate with her without her calling the police, having him arrested for indecent exposure and getting him listed on the sex registry list for perverse perverts and sexual deviates. Yet, with her still walking around her bedroom in her yellow panty, yellow bra, and yellow high heeled shoes, maybe having sex with him and/or his wife is her next step. How hot would that be to have a threesome circle of sex with her, the porn star, in the middle?

Something he knew would never happen, he could only hope, a threesome with him, his wife, and Susan was just another sexual fantasy. Maybe the three of them could make their own porn movie. It was one thing for his wife to watch Susan undress and even masturbate to her sexy striptease and masturbation show but quite another for her to have sex with her in a threesome with him, especially since he hasn't had sex with her in years.

How insensitive and awkward would that be to have sex with Susan before having sex with his wife again? How delicious would that be for Susan to bring them back together romantically and sexually? Perhaps just the sexual therapist they both need, maybe she's the magic, marriage elixir that he and his wife requires to live as a sexual couple again. Yet, still surprised that she watched Susan undress and masturbate herself, Susan did make Liz aroused enough for her to masturbate and have an orgasm.

He wondered if his wife was watching Susan's sexy underwear modeling show too from the guest bedroom. He wondered if his wife had an underwear and shoe fetish in the way he did and in the way that Susan obvious had. In the way that most men do, what woman doesn't have a panty, bra, and shoe fetish? She certainly had enough panties, bras, and shoes to have a fetish. Still watching Susan while thinking about Liz's panty, bra, and shoe collection, instead of reaching for her clothes to go on the date with a man or a woman that he imagined she was readying herself to do, Susan moved her hands behind her and unhooked her bra before removing her panties. 

"No way! Fuck me! She's giving me a show. Hot damn! Holy shit! She's going to model her underwear for me. Unbelievable!"

Now naked again and setting the yellow bra and panties aside, she reached for her blue panties and bra. Donning those, she stepped her feet in her blue high heels. As she did with the yellow sexy ensemble, she walked to pose in front of her full length mirror before walking around the room. He watch her as if he was watching the Twilight Zone Show or as if she was a ghost doomed to repeat her last actions over again. He watched her leaning forward in her mirror as if to see what someone could see of her down her bra before turning and bending to see how her panty conformed to her perfect behind.

After giving him the same sexy, striptease and masturbation show every night, this lingerie modeling show was certainly different. As if her sexy striptease and masturbation shows could be any better than what they were, this lingerie modeling show was the best. After modeling the blue matching panty, bra, and shoe set in front of the full length mirror and walking around her room to model her outfit for him in front of her bedroom windows, she removed her blue combo and reached for her green panties and bra.

One after the other she modeled six different matching sets of panties, bras, and high heeled shoes before reaching for her red panties. He watched her wiggle her round ass and cover her bald pussy with her red panty before she reached for her red bra. Red was definitely her color. Although he liked the blue and green panty and bra too, he liked the red panty and bra the best.

As if she was on fire and as far as he was concerned she was and with not every woman so blessed, someone who was as hot as she was can wear red. As if she was the Devil's, blonde disciple, as far as he was concerned, she should wear red underwear all the time. Only missing her red horns, the tail, and the pitchfork, he loved her in red. He could only imagined how good she'd look wearing bright, red lipstick to match her red panty and bra. Just as he thought that, picking up her lipstick and leaning into her vanity mirror, she painted her lips red and puckered them in the mirror as if she was leaning in to kiss him.

Red lipstick on the dipstick, he'd love to have her suck his cock with her bright red lips and while wearing her red panty and bra. He imagined feeling her tits and fingering her nipples through her bra and fingering pussy through her panty while kissing her, before imagining her leaning down to leave a lipstick mark on his cock as evidence to show him how deeply she took him in her mouth. Then, thinking that she was staying home to model even more panties, bras, and shoes, she disappeared into another part of the house. In an instant, show over, she was gone.




Three's a Circle, Not a Triangle Ch. 13



Where'd she go? Why did she suddenly leave? What was she doing? Maybe she had a phone call. Maybe there was someone at her door. He imagined her opening her front door while wearing just her red panties, red bra, and red high heeled shoes. Having such a good time watching her model her underwear, he wondered if she was returning to finish her lingerie, modeling fashion show.

As if he suddenly had a ringing in his ears, he heard ringing in the distance that slowly grew louder with each ring. In the way of static or distorted reception on his television, the ringing sounded far away from another dimension and certainly from another part of his house. Then, with each ring, returning him from his sexual fantasy of watching Susan in her bedroom to his reality that he was home in his house with his boring wife who didn't speak to him anymore, the ringing grew closer. It took him a few seconds to realize that the ringing was his phone and, too busy watching while waiting for Susan to reappear, wanting to return to his sexual fantasy, he wanted to yell to his wife to answer the phone. Good, Liz answered it finally.

He wondered who would call at this hour? All of his friends and neighbors were already in bed after slathering their winkled, decrepit bodies in Ben Gay, having their nightcap, and/or taking their sleeping pills. Someone calling this time of night was always bad news. Maybe there was something wrong, an accident or maybe something happened, a fire. Always thinking the worst, at the very least, maybe his wife would busy herself talking to her sister, their daughter, or to a neighbor while he busied himself searching for and waiting for Susan to return.

Every day, in the way he used to watch porn movies, before Susan took up his evenings with her nightly striptease and masturbation show, Liz talked a lot on the phone. Counting on her to blab on the phone, her lengthy telephone conversations gave him more uninterrupted time to watch for Susan while eagerly waiting for her to return. He only hoped she'd stay on the phone while Susan's show was over. Not wanting to be disturbed--

"William...? William...?"

With the voice sounding eerily familiar but not of this Earth and as if his house was suddenly haunted by his deceased mother returning for a visit from her grave, he heard a woman's voice calling his name as if the voice called him from far away. Removing the Devil from his head and all things dead from his mind, he imagined that it was Susan's voice ethereally calling him and psychically beckoning from beyond him to come over to her house to watch her model more panties, more bras, and more shoes and to help her pick out her next lingerie and shoe ensemble to model. So focused on watching for Susan and on wondering where she was, as if he were in a trance, he heard his name but he didn't registered who it was calling him. As if he were a sea captain in Homer's Odyssey standing at the helm of his sailing ship while watching for the sexy sirens who beckoned him to crash his boat on the rocks that protected the shore from intruders, he peered out his office windows through his binoculars searching for his beloved Susan.

"Susan," he mumbled. "Where are you Susan? Where'd you go? Come back to model more panties, bras, and shoes for me."

"William," as if he was having a sexy dream while wide awake, albeit preoccupied with searching for Susan, he heard the voice as if answering him and calling to him from afar.

"Susan?" Lost in saying her name, he imagined wherever she was that he was there with her. Imagining walking off with her while holding her hand, he imagined--

"William, you blithering old fool!"

Just as difficult as it was to go from being haunted in life by those who are dead and back to life again, it was difficult to go from fantasy to reality. Thanking God, he knew now from her tone that it wasn't his deceased mother or sexy Susan. It was his wife. As if turning to face a firing squad or her with her attorney in divorce court, he turned from looking out his office windows to look over at his office door.

"What?"

After watching Susan with lust, he looked at his wife with disdain. Blaming her for all of his perversions and fetishes, she was the reason why he was condemned to watching porn movies. Having no sexual life after she wanted separate bedrooms, with the amusement rides off limits, the playground closed, the fun bags put away, and her tunnel of love only used exclusively for herself, he no longer had any sexual outlet but for watching Susan strip naked, masturbate, and now model her sexy underwear.

As if a little boy caught red handed doing something naughty, Liz stood at his opened office door while he still held his binoculars in his hands. Opening his office door without knocking, even though he was married to her for more than 30-years, especially that he was married to her for more than 30-years, he suddenly felt invaded and disturbed that she was standing there uninvited and unwelcomed. Unembarrassed that she caught him spying on his sexy neighbor, he just didn't want to miss Susan returning to her room.

Ordinarily, as if he was having a nefarious and vicarious affair with her from afar, he would have felt embarrassed standing there with his binoculars in hand while spying on his sexy neighbor, but she had been watching Susan stripping naked and masturbating herself too. In the way he's done in front of his office windows so often before inconjuction with Susan masturbating, his wife was guilty of masturbating in front of her spare bedroom windows too. It wouldn't surprise him if his wife had her own pair of binoculars, along with her own blowup doll.

"Our neighbor called to invite us over."

"Now?"

"Now," she said.

He knew by the way she stared at him that she wanted to go. As far as he was concerned, too busy watching Susan, she could go without him. Just in the way that she stays to herself, no longer engages him in conversation, and sleeps alone, she could go to their neighbor's house alone too. He looked at her while already making excuses in his head to decline his neighbor's invitation. Just as she hasn't left her house and the spare bedroom for the sake of watching Susan's sexy shows, he hasn't left his house and his office since Susan moved in across the street. 

"Our neighbor? Who? Which one?"

He had a good mind to call his neighbor and tell him to never bother him again. How dare he call at this hour and make his wife intrude upon his surveillance of Susan! All of his neighbors were old people, men and woman his age and older. He wasn't like any of them. He'd never be like them any of them. He was still young, vibrant, and vital, at least young in mind and in spirit. After watching Susan undress, parade around her room in her underwear, and masturbate, he'd rather be around someone younger than someone older. She made him feel younger than older. She made him feel alive again.

"The one across the street," she said pointing out his office window to Susan's bedroom windows. "That one."

"Across the street?" Still dressed in her red panty, red bra, and red high heeled shoes, he looked over at her window and Susan walked closer to her window as if she was a toreador dressed in red and boldly walking closer to the bull. She waved and smiled at him and, returning her smile, he lifted his hand to wave . Obviously, she could see him as well as he could see her. "Susan?" He looked from Susan to look at his wife before looking back at Susan. "Susan invited us to her house?"

"Yes," she said.

To be continued...