My name is Karen. I was born in 1992 making me 28 years old as I type this. But the story really started a few years ago. Well, that's not quite true. It started when I went to college but my life took an unexpected twist a couple years ago when I was seduced by my 35 year old neighbor. Julie. You see, my life was decidedly normal until that moment. It's still normal to me. A new normal. Most people might not see it that way, but I can't imagine living any other way anymore.
Growing up, my family life was fine. There were stresses, but nothing unusual. When I got to college I looked forward to being on my own and not having my parents looking over my shoulder. I anticipated experimenting with drugs (ecstasy, alcohol, weed) and sex. I wasn't a party animal in high school and didn't lose my virginity until senior year. I didn't plan to go crazy in college and restricted my partying to Friday and Saturday night. I don't have too many crazy stories from those first two years. Twice, when drunk, my roommate and I went down on each other, but I never considered myself switching sides. As for guys, if we made it to a third date, instead of a goodnight kiss, he got a blowjob. If he managed to make it to six dates, I would fuck him. Few lasted much longer. I didn't find anybody I could picture spending my life with post college.
That changed just before Christmas of my Junior year when I met Tom and we were married just after graduation. He was laser focused on his career and quickly became a senior sales associate for a multinational corporation with which you are familiar. His earnings allowed us to buy a beautiful house. This is how I met Julie. Our house was one to two built by a builder who subsequently went bankrupt. Both were at the end of a road around a cul de sac. I think they were the models. The rest of the small development was designed to be up the road, but the land remained vacant. As a result, our two houses basically had half mile driveways. We had two acre lots, so even between the houses we had privacy. Julie's house had a pool. We had fancier landscaping.
Shortly after moving in, I lost my job. I didn't really lose it. I knew where it was, but management didn't want me doing it anymore. Tom was making enough for me to stay at home, so we decided I would be a homemaker for a while. He travelled way too much (my opinion) for work, frequently leaving Monday morning and not returning until Thursday or Friday. I think he liked being away, but I was lonely. I went to the gym almost every day and there was always something to do around the house and yard, so I kept busy while he was gone.
Julie and I became best friends. She didn't have kids either and also stayed at home. The difference was because she was, to say this delicately, a trophy wife. Her husband had just turned 60. They had been married for ten years. Her husband, Steven, left his first wife for her. I know it sounds cliched, but she had worked with Steven at his company. He travelled almost as much as my Tom. Julie didn't have to worry as much about her house. They had landscapers to keep the outdoors perfect and she had a cleaning woman come in a couple of times per week to keep the inside spotless. Julie had plenty of free time to lounge by her pool and she was a gym rat like me, although we went to different gyms.
When Tom was away, I would frequently spend the afternoons with Julie by her pool working on our tans, going for massages or mani-pedis, shopping or we would go to lunch and sometimes a movie. I know I sound like I'm whining about having a pretty good life, but I still missed having my husband around all the time. It didn't help my emotions that as the years went on, his sexual interest in me began to wane.
When he first started traveling, when he returned, we would make love three or four times over the weekend. That was down to one, five years later and sometimes not even that. I still loved him, but I needed more physical attention. I even considered having an affair. It would be easy enough to hide since Tom was gone so much.
About this time, Julie went through a major change. It wasn't like we didn't discuss sex as we were laying out by the pool, so I knew she had some of the same issues as me when it came to a lack of attention by our spouses. Steve was home more than Tom, but post-60 years old, he needed chemical help to satisfy her. She didn't come out and say it, but I thought she was having an affair. On more than one occasion, I noticed a car I didn't recognize in her driveway, although I never saw it arrive or leave. I didn't want to do a stakeout. That seemed weird. It would arrive shortly after Julie got home from her regular gym time and leave a couple hours later. If we did our usual afternoon gabfest, she would always be in a good mood. It was during one of these sessions that she told me she was going away for a couple of weeks for a spa retreat. I could have used one of those and wondered why she didn't invite me to go with her. When she returned, I understood why.
"Spa retreat" apparently was a euphemism for getting a breast augmentation and then spending the two week recovery time at a nice hotel. To picture Julie, she is a toned, slender woman as you might expect with as much time as she spends in the gym. Before her surgery, her breasts were likely a C-cup in my estimation and they looked well matched for her frame. She was about 5' 5" tall and had brown hair. Well she had brown hair since I'd known her. Now she was a platinum blonde. Her hair was also cropped much shorter than I had seen her before and it was trimmed into a bob. Her hair was a lot like the wig Julia Roberts wore in the beginning of Pretty Woman.
Frankly, she was stunning.
Her new breasts, in my opinion, were a bit too large for her frame, but she was obviously very happy with them. She went up to a DD or E, that she obviously liked showing off as she opened her front door in a shirt exposing her new deep cleavage. The shock of seeing her this way for the first time must have shown on my face. She shook her new chest back and forth while beaming a big smile.
"Don't you just love them?" she asked.
I was uncomfortable staring at her boobs, but I couldn't look away. "Um, they're something," I finally babbled. "Why did you do that?" I asked. "You were beautiful before," I stated.
"I feel so much sexier now," she told me. "Go home and grab your swimsuit. I'll get a bottle of wine and we'll sit out and I'll tell you about what's been going on the last couple of months."
I thought back to two months ago. That was when I thought she might be having an affair. This was a conversation I wanted to have with her. Last weeked Tom had not made love to me so it was going on two weeks since my last orgasm, so living vicariously through Julie's life had a certain appeal. Twenty minutes later I was in my bikini, drinking wine and lounging by the pool. I'd be lying if I didn't confess that I was also sneaking peeks at her new tits as they spilled out of her swimsuit top. Apparently she had not had a change to buy a new suit that fit her. Or perhaps she didn't want to. By the time an hour rolled by, we were into our second bottle. I was feeling no pain and out conversation had definitely crossed over into the sexual realm. Even though Julie had promised to tell me what was happening in her life that led to this drastic change, she had steered the conversation to what was happening in my life and I was soon confessing the secrets of all my problems. Julie seemed distracted as the wine disappeared. Her eyes were closed and she was slowly rubbing her index finger of her right hand over her right breast nipple. I was still talking, but I was also watching and my own nipples began to harden.
Finally I just came out and asked if she was having an affair and if she thought that was the solution to my loneliness. She opened her eyes and looked startled as she looked down at where her hand was located. She quickly moved her hand back to the armrest of her chaise. I felt like saying "Don't stop on my account." Actually I wanted to rub my own nipples. They were begging for attention and are very sensitive.
"Sorry," she said. "My nipples are so sensitive and I can't keep my hands off my girls. I should have done this years ago. Maybe then Steve wouldn't be cheating on me."
"What?" I replied. "Steve is having an affair?"
I found that hard to believe given his age and how he had a hot wife.
"I shouldn't be surprised," Julie responded. "He was cheating with me when we first hooked up. Besides, I upgraded in the bedroom."
"Upgraded?" I asked.
"You did want to know if I was having an affair, didn't you?"
"I did," I replied. "How did you meet him?" I asked, wondering jealousy for myself.
"At the gym," she relied. That made sense. There were always guys trying to pick me up at the gym or trying to be discrete when they watched me.
"His name is James and his pickup method was unique," Julie continued.
"Do tell," I countered.
"It was my weight training day," she began her story, her words slurring slightly from the alcohol. "I had noticed him in the gym before. It's kind of hard to miss him," she said while picking up her phone and then swiping her fingers a few times. She held her phone up so I could see a picture of him. "He's built like a Greek God."
I looked at a picture of a very muscular black man doing a squat lift of probably 400 pounds or more. His muscles rippled and I guessed he was about 6' 2". My mouth began to water and my pussy got moist just looking at him.
"Drool much?" Julie asked, busting me.
"Um, how did you hook up?" I asked.
"As I said, I was lifting. I don't lift to get muscular, but just to keep toned. When I switched to free weights to do a set of bench presses, James came over and asked if I needed a spotter. I didn't have that much weight on the bar, but of course I said yes. He stood behind the bar and put his legs on either side of my head. He pretended not to realize I could look up the leg of his shorts and see his cock, but I'm sure he knew exactly what he was doing. The head of his cock looked delicious and I knew it had to be huge to be positioned that far down his thigh. He smiled when I licked my lips. We both pretended I wasn't staring at it as I did my reps. When I finished I thanked him and sprinted to the locker room to shower and to shamelessly rub myself. When I left the gym, he was waiting for me. With a steely glare, he looked at me intently and escorted me to my car. He didn't say a word. He still had on his gym shorts and I could clearly see the outline of his cock. I couldn't think of anything else. He directed me to the back seat and slid in next to me."
"So he didn't say anything and you just got into the car with him?" I asked incredulously.