I was intrigued by the new neighbours. Both were black, nothing wrong with that. But the husband, Rufus, was – as I found out later, of course – 25 while his wife, Gail, was 40. When I say they were black, Rufus was a very light chocolate colour. Gail, a busty lady, was deep brown. Lovely – the sight of both of them made me wet.
The day after they moved in I introduced myself. I'm Christel, and I'm 38, pert 34-inch breasts – but they're DD cups, so they are, thank heavens, a nice mouthful. I wear my blonde hair short, almost like a crew cut on my head, and much, much shorter down there. OK, there's just a landing strip on my mons, the rest is shaved.
I'm separated. My cheating tramp of a husband moved out to shack up with his tramp of a secretary, a cute little 18-year-old. Now she's ditched him for an older woman and there's no way he's getting back into my bed. His secretary, on the other hand, well, she's more than welcome.
But back to Rufus and Gail. A couple of days after introducing myself, I was in my rear upstairs bedroom tidying up and when I looked across I could see directly down into their lounge. There, with the curtains wide, were Rufus and Gail humping like there was no tomorrow. I guess they didn't realise I could see down on them.
Anyway, what I'm getting around to, isn't the fact that Rufus was playing hide the sausage with his hugely attractive big black wife, it was the fact that he was obviously a body builder.
I don't know about you, but I have a thing about body builders. The way their muscles ripple, the glow they give off when they're posing, their oiled pecs, their thighs, their little posing thongs! I just want to finger myself thinking about it!
There is another thing about body builders and that's the common fallacy that they have tiny little cocks. But I'll get around to that later!
Anyway, I watched for a while and then the phone rang and I had to dash into my bedroom to answer it. One pleading, begging hubby. I soon told him where he could take his over-sexed prick and shove it, but not without one final, irresistible parting shot: "And by the way, how is young Monique?" Yeah, you guessed it, she's his fucking secretary! Only, now he's not fucking her any more!
By the time I'd got back into the spare room, there was no sign of my new neighbours. The next day, I was watching again when I saw Gail drive out of their carport. Soon afterwards, Rufus emerged into the sunshine and started to work on hand weights in their garden. He was wearing a pair of cut off jeans and he looked good enough to eat!
I slipped into a pair of high heels, checked out my sexy little red shorts and white T-shirt, dabbed some lipstick on, then almost ran out into my back yard.
"Hi Rufus, working out?" I announced, somewhat obviously when I reached the waist high hedge separating us.
The gorgeous athlete put down his weights and grinned. "Hi, Christel, yeah, catching up on some exercise," he replied, his body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration.
"That's a nice body you've got there," I said, again somewhat obviously, but he accepted the compliment.
"It's taken a lot of hard work to get it looking this good," the brown-eyed handsome man said, somewhat proudly.
"Yeah, I bet," I said, then plunged into the reason for my arrival: "You look so strong, I was wondering if you could help me with a little lifting job I've got upstairs?"
He smiled and with one hand on the top of the fence he vaulted athletically across it and stood near me. He smelt of sweat and Envy by Gucci! "Lead on," he said.
I turned and wiggling my tush as seductively as I knew how – and hey, it's a great-looking arse, OK? – walked inside and up the stairs to my bedroom.
Rufus looked puzzled when I turned to face him. "Where's the lifting job?" he asked.
"Here," I said, planting my feet firmly. "I'd like you to lift me onto the bed!"
OK, it was the corniest pick-up line in the world – pick up, get it? OK, sorry, awful pun.
But Rufus wasn't upset by my outrageous display of wanton desire. In fact, he grinned. "Fair enough, Christel, but first do you want to check out that I'm up to the task?"
I smiled. "I'd love to, but you're rather over dressed. How about getting rid of those shorts before I check you out," I suggested. I figured if I was going to use a pick-up line like that, I'd be totally brazen.
Rufus grinned again, displaying oh-so-perfect teeth. "Sure, but if I get rid of these shorts I'll only be wearing one garment, my thong. How about you getting stripped down to one item of clothing as well?"
It was my turn to smile. "Fair enough – and then we'll be a perfect match, because I'm wearing a thong, too," I told him, before peeling off my T-shirt and stepping out of my shorts. I saw him eying my boobs and my little black satin thong.
"Nice tits," he said, while sliding his cut-offs down to his ankles and kicking them away, to reveal a shiny, red satin thong.
"Nice package," I responded, looking with interest on his pleasure pack.
"OK, Christel, check me out," he said, and went into one of those muscle-rippling body builder's poses for me.
I stepped forward and ran my fingers lightly over his lovely shoulders, feeling the smooth skin. Then down his chest to his pecs, the nipples dark brown and erect. Next I checked out his abs – yeah, like a washboard, as they say.
"Turn around," I whispered, trying hard to contain the excitement in my voice.
He did and I saw the most magnificent set of beautiful round buns, gleaming chocolate brown. I stroked them, feeling my nipple-hard breasts brushing against his bare back.
"You're wonderful," I told him, as he turned back to face me, "but there's just one more muscle I need to check. OK?"
Rufus grinned, which I took to indicate permission, so I pulled the top of his thong down and his cock sprang from the garment's confines. It was then that I realised the old saying that body builders have small cocks was exactly that – a lot of cock!
A mighty, brown stick popped into sight, the pink helmet of his circumcised cock shiny in the light, its tip nearly grazing his navel. I tugged the thong completely down to reveal a large pair of heavy balls. He was totally shaved.
"Well, Christel," he announced, "now you've checked me out, do you think I'm right for that lifting job?"
I nodded. "You're absolutely perfect for what I had in mind," I said, stroking his erection. "What is it – 10 inches?"
Rufus laughed. "Hardly, darling, a mere nine and a half," he said, but there was that hint of pride again.
Then he changed the subject. "Christel, now I'm not wearing my thong, how about you take yours off, too – lighten the lifting load, eh?"
I was out of my thong in a flash and it had hardly hit the floor, than Rufus had his strong hands around my waist and was lifting me up into the air. I'm not heavy, but I'm well-built, so I'm not exactly light, either, but Rufus had me up there as if I was a feather.
My heart was thumping as he hoisted me until my pussy was directly opposite his face and then, when his tongue flickered along my sex trench I thought I was going to wet myself!
But my body builder then lowered me to the floor, spun me gently around and once more hoisted me up into the air. This time I felt his tongue flashing against my buttocks before landing like a flick of a feather on my anus.
Rufus then turned to face the bed and lowered me until my feet were on the mattress. With a push, he had me onto my belly, then he was on me, flicking me over and guiding his cock straight up my sopping wet cunt. I kissed him greedily on the mouth – then froze.
There, at the still open bedroom door, stood Gail. "And just what the fuck do you think you're doing, Rufus?"
She marched into the room, clad in a pair of gleaming black leather jeans, a white blouse and a black leather bolero jacket. She was stunningly attractive, but she was also pissed!
"I'm, er, I'm," Rufus began, but she cut him off swiftly.
"Oh shut the fuck up, while I get ready. And while I'm doing that, get Christel up on top, you fuckin' sex maniac," she snapped.
