Pear-Shaped and Denied

It's been awhile since I last published... I hope this one will draw your interests.

If you have a dislike for extramarital sex... or classify it as 'cheating'... then please bypass this story.

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It was strange because we'd known each other and lived next door for almost ten years. She is married and I'm single but she doesn't work outside the home while I work from my home.

We'd always been friendly although her husband was one of those guys that I never could like much. We spoke and helped each other occasionally but I always helped him more often because I was mechanically inclined. He was nice enough to volunteer help sometimes when I was moving something and even though I had a hand truck for anything heavy he would hold the door or help me up or down steps.

I don't mean that he isn't a nice guy because he is but he's just not the personality type that I've ever been able to appreciate. Strangely though she and I had always hit it off well. She was a gal with a personality that I liked and she was all heart with everyone and she smiled a lot.

This doesn't mean we ever did anything except talk until about a year ago. For some reason we began flirting and it was all innocent but fun. It was then that it seems she started wearing her clothes differently or maybe they were just clothes I'd never seen her wear but I looked and enjoyed.

I remember one morning when she had gone out and began washing her car. Our kitchens sat across from each other and our driveways and garages were adjacent. I was finally doing my dishes from the previous night and that morning I saw her out my kitchen window. I waved and as I washed I kept watching her.

She'd finished soaping down the side of the car that faced me and moved to the opposite side where she was facing me. I'd really enjoyed the view from the back. She was wearing faded denim cut-offs and a thin white shirt but when she got to the other side of the car I noticed that water or soap had splashed onto the shirt and it was nearly transparent. At least it was transparent enough for me to see her nipples almost as well as if she were naked. The curve of each breast with this view was mixed in my mind with my previous view of her ass and legs as she'd worked.

I don't exactly know why all of this turned me on so completely but it did. At times my Libido is probably just too strong.

I remember a remark the postman made one day as I held my hand out to receive the mail "That pear-shaped gal next door really has bright red hair doesn't she?"

It was true, her hair was a solid red and I suppose to some guys she did appear a bit pear-shaped with her smaller breasts and larger hips and full round ass but I liked her that way. I don't mean her breasts were tiny because they weren't because they were probably a B or C cup and seemingly disproportional to some of the rest of her.

I'd always wondered about her breasts though and wondered if her nipples were pale and if she shaved the red hair that a natural redhead has elsewhere. I didn't exactly dwell on it before that day but now that I could see through her shirt I knew her nipples were each full and not pale at all.

I quickly finished the dishes and piled them in the plastic drain-dry thing I'd bought to let them air dry. I'd bought a dishwasher more than three years before but I didn't like the way it frequently left spots of food on some dishes so in most cases I continue to wash them by hand.

When the last silverware was in the drain fixture I pulled off a paper towel and dried my hands while I headed toward my kitchen door then went out to say hello.

She had just picked up the hose and was beginning to rinse the car. She'd washed it in the shade and so she had time to chamois it before the car dried and spotted.

She glanced up with her smile and said "Hi. Want to help?"

I smiled back and mentioned that the washing was finished but she smiled back and pointed to a chamois and said she always had trouble reaching across the top of the car to dry it right.

I walked over, picked up the chamois and had her spray it so that I could wring it out and not try wiping while it was dry and perhaps scratch the paint.

When she'd finished rinsing the wheels I'd already finished the top of the car. She walked over and said she could finish the rest of it by herself and thanked me.

I'm well over six foot and as she reached for the chamois I held it high so that she couldn't reach it although she jokingly tried.

I commented that I loved the view from up here as I worked and she could sit on her kitchen step and just let me look. I was looking still at her breasts when she caught me then looked down.

Instantly she turned beet red and apologized,

I told you we flirted and now it was my chance as I said that I didn't mind at all and that I'd always wondered what perfection looked like.

She grew even redder if possible and tried to cover her breasts with her hands.

"Hey! Don't do that and besides I've already seen them so you might as well let me enjoy them further." I said it as a tease but it worked and she put her hands down.

She responded "I knew I should have put on a bra but it's so warm these last few weeks I thought it would be cooler this way. I didn't know this shirt was transparent when it got wet. It sure isn't when it's dry."

She continued as she stood back and before asking if she could finish the drying. "Besides, my breasts are small and not worth looking at."

I smiled back "They look perfect to me and I wouldn't be looking if they weren't." "I've always wondered what they looked like even though I've seen your nipples fighting against a blouse every once in a while."

She told me. "Really? When? I don't go without a bra very often."

I teased again "Oh. Sometimes you seem to be wearing one of those mesh bras that are probably more comfortable but they conform well to the skin."

She continued "I do have several of that kind of bra but I didn't notice that anyone could see nipples through them. You don't think my breasts are too small? My husband does I think."

I replied "They aren't too small at all and I'll bet hubby doesn't think so either especially when he's playing with them."

She added with a smile "Sometimes I wish he would play with them but he stopped that years ago. It's nice that someone likes them."

I returned her smile with a bit of a mischievous leer "Well if you ever have that wish again just let me know and I'll see if I can't handle them."

She laughed and said "I'll remember that and who knows maybe I'll see."

I was just finishing with the chamois and stood back with a gesture to it and said "Your chariot awaits you and if you see any spots on the top just bring it back and I'll take care of them. Satisfaction is my guarantee."

She must have recognized the double entendre and I watched as she blushed and put the hose and bucket away, took the chamois and thanked me. I was still watching as she climbed the steps again and went back into her house.

I let out my breath and went back into mine but when I glanced over from the corner of my kitchen window I saw her smiling through hers.

I suppose that's when the seriousness of my flirtation with her responses began to truly develop.

She liked to dry her washing in her backyard and would carry heavy loads there at least once a week and let them dry in the sun even though I knew she had a dryer. I supposed she used the dryer when she was in a hurry or it was raining outside. I'd always been puzzled that she never seemed to hang lingerie on the lines before I realized that she probably hung them up inside the house where nobody would see them.

I seemed to notice her more often after the car washing and one morning she saw me outside and came over. It was a dark day with thick clouds and the forecast was for heavy rain.

She caught my attention and I went over. I'm an electrical engineer by education and both she and her husband knew it.

When I was looking up at her on those steps I noticed her wearing something I'd never seen before.

Her outfit was a short black leather skirt and a sleeveless black leather top but what was truly strange to me and drew my attention even more was that the top looked like something Madonna might wear at a concert.

There were rolled and coiled black leather spirals that wound around and enclosed each breast. Each coil was studded with almost continuous small brass studs. The spirals ran from nipple to chest and formed pointed pyramids at each tip.

It was gaudy but sexy I thought and she must have seen my curiosity and stare because she glanced down and said "I should have changed. I've been wearing this around the house in the daytime for a year trying to get some use out of it. I spent a lot of money on it just before I was married but when I put it on during our honeymoon my dear husband told me I looked like a cheap street walker. I took it off and haven't worn it since until I got tired of seeing it in my dresser drawer and decided to wear it until it falls off." She laughed again "It's horrid isn't it?"

I cleared my throat and swallowed the saliva that had formed in my mouth before I told her how good she looked in it. Then with what I thought was my sexiest smile I asked her to turn around and model it for me.

She wasn't sure but then she did and with that short skirt and her turning around four steps above me at her kitchen door I got another great view. She was wearing panties but the skirt would have covered her ass if we'd been on the same level. From where I was standing now though it showed bare cheeks and the hint of lips from behind and through those panties.

I think I must have developed an erection every time I remembered her nipples through that white shirt a few months earlier but now another had risen automatically and was even firmer.

She asked "Is it still okay?" But then I think she either noticed the bulge in my jeans or perhaps subconsciously I'd rubbed it or pushed it down. Suddenly she smiled and told me she was happy that I appreciated it even if she'd worn it outside only by accident.

I smiled back and wet my lips "You should wear it a lot more often outside and until it does fall off. I hope I'm here when it does but beware your neighbor and any passerby."

She continued. "I called to you because the light won't come on in the ceiling and I can barely see in the kitchen. Could you look at it for me? Please? If you can tell me what's wrong I can have hubby fix it tonight."

When I got inside I tried the switch and the light was definitely out. I asked if she had any extra light bulbs and she ran to get one while I pulled a chair from the table and positioned it. The ceiling was too high for her to reach even when standing on a chair.

Although the morning was cool with a slight breeze and high humidity I'd only slid on an old pair of jeans thinking I'd be back in the house in just a minute. I wore no shirt and was barefoot as I climbed onto the chair. The chair tipped and I almost fell as she came back with the bulb.

She rushed over and helped me regain my balance and then explained that I'd taken the bad chair and it was missing the little glider foot on the bottom of one leg.

She told me she didn't know what had happened to the glider. It had just disappeared one day and for a year she'd meant to get another but kept forgetting it.

She suggested I get one of the other chairs but I was okay now and if I broke the chair it would be less of a loss I thought.

The way she'd clamped her arms around my legs it put her face just a few inches below the rise in my jeans. It was back in full force now and I don't know how she could have not noticed or felt it but she said nothing.

I removed the protective globe over the old bulb and then unscrewed it. I swapped bulbs with her and put the new bulb in before returning the globe and securing it.

I know my rise slid down her face as I stepped down and she finally released me. The touch of her face against it made me hurry to the switch and face the wall.

When I flipped the switch nothing happened and so I asked if she had a regular screwdriver. I could have gone home and returned with a tool pouch but it would save time if she had one.

When she gave it to me I removed the escutcheon plate, removed the screws that secured the switch and then pulled the switch from the conduit box. I held the screwdriver by its plastic handle and used the blade to jumper between the two wires of the switch and the light came on. The switch was old and had finally failed.

She told me she could have her husband fix it but I told her I had extras at my place and went home, found a new switch and returned. I was still barefoot and wearing only the jeans. I always wear my jeans low but the walk had slipped them even lower and I hadn't pulled them back up as I returned.

When I was back into the kitchen she was gone and the chair had been moved back under the table. I removed the old switch now and tossed it into a trash basket before installing the new one. I flipped the switch and the light came on.

When finished I turned around and she was standing there but had changed out of the leathers. She told me she was wearing my favorite white shirt again and I told her it was only my favorite when it was wet and I laughed.

She walked to the sink and filled a glass before turning back around. "Okay. I'll let you spill it" she said and held the glass out to me. Her feet were away from the counter and she kept her body straight as she leaned back against the sink. Her breasts were pointing up and I could see her nipples enlarged and stretching the shirt.

I asked even though it was obvious she wasn't "Are you wearing a bra?"

She said "No." I asked then if she was wearing panties under the denim skirt and she laughed as she replied "You'll have to find that out for yourself."

I stepped closer and took the glass from her hand and put it on the sink. I said "I'd rather see them this way." I began unbuttoning the shirt.

I finished, folded it back and noticed she was even more perfect than I'd imagined. I lowered my face to them one at a time while I played with the free one in my hands. I returned some of the nipple play she'd been missing so long and listened as she moaned in delight.

After a while and still holding them I asked "Do you want me to stop now? If I continue I won't be able to stop until you're completely mine. You have your chance now."

I repeated "Do you want me to stop?"

Her eyes were closed and she used her tongue to wet her lips as her lips formed the word and I heard the word softly whispered. "No." It was then I felt her hand on my abs.

She added "You always smell so good when you're sweaty." Her hand swept down and entered between my jeans and the abs before I felt her hand closing on me and her other hand beginning to search across the jeans for its head.

I whispered back "Down further." In a moment she moaned again as she found it.

I hooked my fingers into the waist of the jeans and pushed them down before it popped free.

She glanced down, paused and smiled and then moaned as one hand took my head and the other cupped under and explored my scrotum.

It was my turn now as I slipped to my knees and felt her warm hand move and began slipping along my shaft as I dropped. It slipped free finally heard an "Oh."

I lifted the hem of her skirt, folded it back across her tummy and found she was wearing nothing beneath. I moved my hand to her leg behind one knee, raised her leg and placed it over my shoulder as I moved closer. I kissed her tummy and then moved my kisses lower until I reached her Venus Mound and laved it with my tongue.

Slowly now a bit lower and I slipped my tongue between warm wet lips and curled it upward to find her clit and began what I'd wanted to do for so long.

Her hands slipped to the back of my head and she started to speak but almost nothing came out before she began working hard against my face. Her thrusts and the force of her hands pulling my head closer brought me nearer and tighter against her as I worked. She tasted sweet and her scent drove me wild with need of her as I continued.

Slowly I slid my hand up one inner thigh and then moved between her lips and slid it backward until I found her entry and then I began using my fingers to add to her pleasure.

Her body was flooded with Goosebumps and except for the wet sounds all I could hear was the sweet moaning and urgings from her mouth. Again and again I cleaned her and returned before finally she began pushing me away. At first it was hesitant and then constant but slowly building until she arched her back and pulled away.

Her fingers were still entangled in my hair as she pulled it toward the ceiling and said "Come back up here."

I got to my feet and the hem of her skirt was still lying high across her tummy. The legs of the jeans were tight around my legs when I reached down and freed them letting them fall into a heap on the floor.

As I stepped close again the position of my erection pressed into her at a position a scant fraction of an inch from slipping between her thighs.

She raised that same leg again until the toes pointed skyward as she took it in hand again and slipped me back and forth between her lips, lubricating me for entry and then suddenly it was in position and she arched her back again driving me slightly into her.

I'm tall and it's large and so I let her work it until she was comfortable and it began slipping slowly deeper while her tongue swept her lips repeatedly and her eyes seemed to lose focus as she stared into mine. It was an incredible and once in a lifetime experience. That first time of entry had always been special but this was far better.

When finally it was fully inserted I placed my hands on her hips and lifted her. Her one leg wrapped tightly around me and in a moment it loosened and she began riding me with that one leg still held high against me.

I pushed her ass against the sink again and began taking her easy at first but in seconds I was taking her hard with full length strokes and she was responding just as urgently.

I whispered "I'll try and keep from climaxing."

She replied in a hungry voice "No. No! I want it all."

Still I did work to prevent climaxing before she could thoroughly enjoy it.

I've known more than a couple of guys make comments like "Heavier gals are soft but they have no moves. They just lay there."

My response has always been "Dude you just don't know how to treat a gal or know nothing about sex or maybe you don't take enough time and give her a treat first. Maybe you just can't last and only pleasure yourself. You need to work on your toolbox."

As it was I think she had more moves than I did and she was totally flexible with that one leg straight up against my chest as we worked she was working to give her all. She was tight and could do things I've never known another gal to do such as the way she could rotate her hips, tighten her legs and pussy tighter around me then move as fast or sometimes faster than I could. She could tease me, stroke me and milk me. When she climaxed it was communicated through every sense and telegraphed to every nerve I had. My cock was whispering "Keep it up I need it all." My balls were crying "Let me do it. Let me fill her. I need the relief of filling her. I have to do it"

I felt her big climaxes too as they rolled almost endlessly through her body seeming to beg me to release. Finally I did but she knew it was coming and she took it and worked me for even more before she kissed me hard and long. Her lips and tongue became so busy I thought I'd never be able to catch my breath.

She was exhausted but smiling broadly when finally the kiss was broken. She said "I've never felt anything like that before but I want all of it. I guess I should feel ashamed but I don't. I feel happy and for the first time I feel both pleasured and satisfied. Thank you."