The Devil Comes Out At Night Pt 08

Here's a short chapter to keep you

Devil

fans happy while I work on some more.

*****

So let's see. If I went to a Sexaholics Anonymous meeting, what would I say when I stood up to speak for the first time...

"My name's Margaret, and I love sex. I know I'm supposed to say 'I'm a sexaholic', but lets just stick with 'I love sex,' at least for now. I met a few of you earlier, but for the ones who don't know, I'm a church secretary at a fundamentalist Christian church, and my husband and I have joined the swinging lifestyle. We enjoy Bible readings, and Sunday service, and naked summer days on our friends' boat, and orgies with our biker friends. I'm fond of big cock, and I love the taste and soft slippery feel of pussy on my tongue. I've recently started experimenting with anal sex, after watching one of my best girlfriends do it for the first time, on the bed my husband and I sleep on. Sometimes at night, when I'm on the verge of sleep, I can hear her animal-like noises echoing, like a friendly ghost.

"I won't tell you folks her name, but she's your average Christian girl. Woman, I should say. In her thirties, still single. My other friend's husband says she looks like that swimsuit model Kate Upton. There's some similarities, for sure, mostly from the shoulders down, if you know what I mean. She's got a bigger ass than Kate Upton, but it's nice and round, and...sort of like those Kardashian girls everyone's so crazy about. A while back I found out it's called badonkadonk, that kind of ass, and those kind of tits, and that sort of hourglass waist tying it all together. Have you ever heard that word? Badonkadonk? Oh, some of you have? Yeah, it's fun, isn't it? She's definitely one of those girls, and all the men in my life are kind of crazy about her. Anyway, she's the one that likes anal now, and with an ass like that what guy wouldn't want to do her that way?

"So maybe this isn't the kind of stuff we're supposed to talk about at these meetings. Sexaholic. That means we kind of crave it, right? Can't get enough, wanna fuck all the time, dream about sucking the cock of a married neighbor? Yeah, I see the women here nodding, so that's what it is. Can't get enough. My pussy just tingles, even doing something as simple as standing here talking about it in front of all of you. My pussy's wet, right now, because I'm wondering what all you men's cocks look like, wondering how hard they get, wondering how long you could fuck me before you cum.

"I see some red faces out there. Are you boys shy? If you're shy maybe you won't answer this, but I'm wondering...how many of you men have had anal sex? With a woman, I mean. Your hard cock inside a horny woman's little asshole. Okay, I see a couple hands raised. How many of the rest of you would want to if you had the chance? Wow, that's...a lot of you. How many of you women like it that way, a nice hard cock in your ass? Okay, well that's a few. So like I said, I'm just starting to experiment with it myself. So far it's just my sweet husband I've let in there, and my dildo Mr. Dicky. I can't cum from just anal so far, but maybe I'll get there. My friend who I told you about, Ms. Badonkadonk, she can. She cums like crazy with a big cock in her ass. It's the most beautiful thing to watch, and she loves being watched. Do you all like it, too? Being watched? And the watching? I'm absolutely an exhibitionist, and a voyeur, too. I see lots of you nodding.

"I talked to one of you at the coffee table earlier, and she told me that confessing something is good to do here, so I guess I'll do that. This also fits in with what I was just saying, about me being an exhibitionist. It really gives me such a thrill, I'm not sure what to compare it to. It's so interesting how the brain works; the imagination. So, here's my confession: I showed my neighbor my pussy, and when I did it I imagined him fucking me. I Guess I should explain the whole thing so you can picture it better.

"I exercise out on my back lawn, on a nice big yoga mat. I do it because I think the hot sun beating down on me helps with my weight loss, and also because my nice retired neighbor is often outside doing his yard work. Of course I wear a bikini while I exercise, and over the past month or two I've gotten more and more...um...sexual, I guess you could say, with my movements and my...actions. One day I found myself masturbating, face down on the mat, with my hand under me. My neighbor saw it. I liked it, and I'm a hundred percent certain he liked it, too. It was all sort of hush hush, and he and I were very polite about it, never saying anything directly. I did it, and he watched me do it, and that was that. Until, of course, it happened again.

"So I should tell you this part, too, because it's a big chunk of the story. Or maybe...am I taking too much time? Should I sit and let the rest of you talk? No? Okay, I'll keep going. Lord knows I like to talk.

"So. My neighbor. When all of this masturbating was happening outdoors, in the daytime, he was also listening at night, to me and my husband having swinger sex with various other couples. I knew he was listening, and I wanted him to, and all those feelings just overwhelmed me one day when I was exercising in the yard with him watching, and...my ass was facing him...and I was on my elbows and my knees, very fuckable, and...I reached back and...do you know what a gusset is? It's the skinny part of a bikini bottom that goes down underneath, between your legs, and covers your pussy and asshole. So I was in doggy style position, and I was sweaty and hot from the sun and I was so horny, and...I reached back and my fingers pulled that damp gusset aside and Martin...sorry, I shouldn't use his name...my nice neighbor got an eyeful. He saw my pussy, all wet, and my fingers in it and on my clit, making me cum. I even tickled my asshole a little. I came so nice, it made my whole body twitchy, and my thighs trembled, and a lot of it was because I was imagining his cock in there, fucking me slow and deep. I stayed there, sort of out of it, daydreaming, I guess you could say, with my fingers playing, all slippery and wet, letting the nice orgasm smolder and fade, letting my sweet neighbor have a nice long look at my pussy, the way he'd see it if he was right there ready to lick it.

"So that's my confession for this first meeting, here with all you sexaholics. I'm anxious to hear your stories. It's fun to be here with other people who love sex."

—

"Oh my God!" Jeana said, chuckling, when I showed her what I'd written. "It's hilarious, but...you shouldn't make fun of those people. They have serious problems and it messes up their lives."

"I know," I said. "I just started thinking about it and writing it, and that's what came out."

"Well, there's definitely some reality in it. Especially confessing about doing all that in front of Martin. The poor guy. You're such a tease."

"I'm hoping it's jumpstarting his sexlife with Ellen."

"But what if it's not? What if she's just not interested anymore?"

"Well, then...at least he's got a solid fantasy life these days. There's something to be said for that."

"Yeah, there is. You're right. Just don't be surprised if he sneaks up behind you someday with his hard cock in his hand. I think I know what you'd do with it."

"You think so, huh? What would I do?"

"You'd go down on your knees and you'd suck it, and you'd swallow, and you'd tuck it back in his pants and give him the shush sigh with your finger to your lips. Did I mention that I'm jealous that you've got a cute older guy next door to tease? My neighbors don't turn me on at all."

"I just had a wonderful idea," I said. "Let's exercise together Thursday morning. He loved flirting with you and Cynthia and Nikki the other night. Want to do a workout with me in the yard so he can see you in your bikini?"

"Yes! Ooo, I just got a lady boner. Whew, hot flash, hot flash..."

"Ha ha!" I laughed, smiling at the way Jeana fanned her face with her hand. "Oh, we're terrible. We really are teases, aren't we."

"But he's such a nice guy," Jeana said. "We have an obligation to make him happy, right?"

I smiled and nodded, and wondered where things would lead. It's the not knowing that really gets to me. It's that open-ended unknown. That's the part of the swinging lifestyle that really gets my blood boiling. Which man will I choose next? Which woman will I see sampling my sweet husband's virility? Which man will tap me on the shoulder, sporting a nice lump in his pants, and ask me for a private dance? It's thoughts like those that make the idea of a swinger club right here in our own county so astonishing, a club that Donald and I are going to visit this coming weekend. Bob and Jeana will be there, too, and Cynthia and Ryan, and Ty and Nikki. Safety in numbers, I guess you could say, but Donald and I are both so enamored with the idea I'm pretty sure we'd be trying it out on our own if it had all played out that way.

I'm certain my eyes were twinkling as I smiled at Jeana. "Oh, Martin will be happy all right, with both of us in bikinis. Wear the new gray one. We'll get all sweaty and it'll stick to you and...Ooo! I just love how that one looks on you."

"Are you going to order one?" she asked. "We could get different colors. Bob says it's his favorite on my tits."

"It's like paint. You know when they do body paint in those Sports Illustrated things? That's what it looks like on you."

Jeana nodded and she blushed a little. "I'll wear it," she said. "I've been in a teasy mood lately. Martin's the perfect guy."

I agree with her on that last bit. Martin's a sweetheart; a wonderfully nice guy to tease. I say that because I know he enjoys it, and he keeps it between us as far as I know, and I think he kind of needs it at this point in his life. He's sixty-five, which is sort of a transition point from middle age to old age, although these days sixty-five isn't nearly as old as it used to be. It wouldn't surprise me at all if he's sexually virile, and it also wouldn't surprise me if he isn't gettin' any with his wife. I don't want to go so far as to say I feel sorry for him, mainly because he's got a really good life compared to so many people in the world, but I just have this women's intuition thing that tells me he craves sexuality, in the way that those of us who really like sex crave it. That's what my instincts tell me, every time I talk to him when I'm wearing a bikini, and every time I watch him out of the corner of my eye when I'm showing off my sexuality to him on my exercise mat. I was eager to see his reaction to Jeana being there with me, and I had a few ideas on how we could take things up a notch, or two or three.

It was Thursday when we did it. I made sure to mention it to Martin the day before, when I saw him out in the driveway. "Oh, hi Martin," I said, as I stepped out of my car. "Boy, this nice hot weather just won't quit, huh?" We chatted about it a bit, and then I snuck in the pertinent information — "Supposed to be another scorcher tomorrow. Jeana's coming over in the morning to burn some calories in the sunshine with me." Martin's eyes lit up in a subtle way, the way a gentleman expresses happiness when he knows he probably shouldn't. I think I blushed a little.

Everything worked out nicely. I watched his wife Ellen leave for the library Thursday morning, Jeana knocked on my door at about 9 AM and we had coffee, and then she took off her nice yoga pants and her cute little work-out shirt, and I took off my old sweats, and voilá, two middle-aged broads with rockin' bodies in sexy little bikinis. Actually I like to think of us as girls, and of course the goodness of our bodies is in the eye of the beholder. I think Jeana's is rockin', but you'll have to ask her about mine. Or you could ask Martin, I guess.

"So what do you do," Jeana asked, "just walk out and start doing jumping jacks?"

"Oh my gosh, do you do those?" I asked. "I think I'm too titty."

"No, I'm just kidding. I'm all about Yoga type stuff these days. Low impact."

"Good," I said. "Me too. I just go out and unroll my mat, and within a minute or two Martin will be out doing something, usually sweeping or clipping his hedge. I've gotten so used to it I find it comforting."

Jeana smiled and she followed me out the back door. It was humid and the day's heat was building. We stepped out from the shade of the patio onto the warm grass, and we rolled out our mats. We aligned ourselves crossways on the lawn, and before we could plop ourselves down with our feet and our asses toward Martin's backyard the sound of his back door made both of us smile.

"Oh, hi Martin," I said. "You remember Jeana."

"I sure do," he said. "Hi Jeana, how are you."

"Good, Martin. Nice to see you again."

We moved toward the hedgerow and he did, too, and we met there for a little chat. I don't know if Jeana felt the tingle, but I sure did.

We talked about the weather, and Martin's nice backyard, and I saw him taking quick glimpses of Jeana's breasts and the way they transformed the micron-thick spandex into a gently moving sculpture of the perfect middle-aged tits.

"I was meaning to tell you, Margaret, I went over to Ty's shop the other day," Martin said. "He couldn't have been nicer. Showed me all around. The work they do there is amazing."

"Oh, how nice!" I said. "Yes, he's a very nice young man."

"Was Nikki there?" Jeana asked him. "I think she took a shine to you."

"No, I didn't see her."

We were ending our nice little chat and I still hadn't figured out how to clue Martin in to the 'part two' of the morning's activities that I had in mind. I hadn't even told Jeana about it, but then, out of the blue, I thought of a way to do it.

"Talking about Ty building bikes makes me think — do you happen to know if all these houses were built by the same builder?"

"Yes, I think they were," Martin said. "I think the whole neighborhood went up back in the early nineties."

"I was just wondering if there were similarities. Do you have the big shower in your master bathroom?"

Martin's eyes twinkled in that gentlemanly knowing way. "Oh. Yes. Yes, we do."

"I just thought I'd recommend one of those big 'rain' type shower heads. Donald put one in ours and we just love it. You and Ellen might find it fun. It's perfect for two people at once."

Jeana caught on and said, "Oh, wow, do I get to try it today? It'll be like a girls locker room after gym class."

"Sure," I said, smiling slyly. "There's only two of us, but we can pretend we're high school girls." I looked down at my titty self in my blue bikini, nipples poking at the fabric and goosebumps on my skin. "Can you imagine if I looked like this in high school?"

"Didn't you?" Martin asked.

"No. I didn't fully bloom until college. I was baby-faced in high school."

"I was all out there," Jeana said, glancing down at her own beautiful self. "My training bra year was way back in seventh grade."

"Did the boys all flock to you?" I asked. "I was jealous of the more developed girls."

I glanced at Martin when Jeana answered. He looked very pleased with our conversation. "I guess they sort of did," she said. "One of the boys always invited me and my friend to his pool parties, even though we weren't really friends with him."

"Did she have nice tits too?" I asked, feeling bolder.

"No, but she wanted desperately to be sexy. She had a special box in her closet. There was another box inside it that you could lift out, and down in the hidden part she kept magazines that were her older sister's. I don't know how she got her hands on them, but there they were. Playgirl and Cosmopolitan. We read articles about how to be sexy, and what good sex was all about. We were both so

excited

about it. It's pretty funny to think back on."

"Articles? Oh, come on," I said. "Maybe the Cosmo's, but the Playgirl's? Tell us about the

pictures

."

Jeana smiled, glancing at Martin. Her whole beautifully tanned body pinkened a little with a blush, and her nipples aroused even more than they were. "There were lots of mustaches," she said, "and lots of body hair. That's my most vivid memory. Well built men with darkly hairy crotches."

"It was a hairier time," Martin said, with an impish smile. "The old Playboy magazines stimulate...similar memories."

"Well that's actually an interesting question, now that you've brought it up," I said. "What does a man your age think of the recent trends? All the waxing and shaving we women do, I mean."

Martin was careful with his answer, looking deep into my soul with his sparkling eyes when he gave it. "Anything that...opens up the view is...fine by me."

I wanted to ask him about the oral implications — have a nice little discussion about how a bare pussy and smooth balls feel on the tongue — but I didn't. Our little backyard chat had already broken the bounds of neighborly convention, and I could feel the Devil's presence hovering in the warm, humid air. We were all in the danger zone and I didn't want to get my gentlemanly neighbor in deep trouble, so I backed away from the topic.

"Yes," I said. "I feel that way too." It struck me when I said it that Martin had seen just how hairless I am down there, that day when I showed him my pussy in all it's aroused, glisteningly wet glory. I blushed, and fresh goosebumps tingled on my arms. I turned to Jeana and said, "I...um...guess we should get to our exercises. Maybe a short session today, since you want to try out the shower."

"Oh," Jeana said. "Sure, yeah, whatever you think. I'm game."

I wondered if I'd been too obvious, too ham fisted in my desire to lure Martin to his upstairs window, the one he'd sat near on the night of the barbecue, when he'd listened to our orgy. I felt embarrassed and clumsy when he and Jeana said their nice talking to you's and their hope to see you again's. I wondered if the whole thing was too out there; even the two of us exercising in the yard suddenly seemed over the top. I was having serious twinges of conscience; I could almost feel God sparring with the Devil in a sweaty boxing ring, and then, as Jeana and I were heading toward our exercise mats, she whispered in my ear. "He's so cute. He's watching our asses, you know. I love this." And I realized, not for the first time, that I love it too.

Exercising that day was giggly. That's what I remember of it. That and Martin, quietly sweeping his patio, tinkering with his lawn furniture, and working a little more at clipping the hedge. But it was the giggles that were so much fun, and so blushingly embarrassing. Jeana and I managed to get through a decent set of moves: doggy style leg lifts for our glutes; scissor lifts and ab crunches. We did some stand-up moves: twists, and knee lifts for balance, and spread-legged toe touches that showed off how gravity affected our bouncy little bikini tops. Martin felt like our partner in all of it — a quiet trainer, keeping track of our form. And then we rolled up our mats, giggled and waved at him, and we walked into the cool of the house. A minute or two later Jeana and I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, still giggling.

"The window's open up here, just so you know," I said. "I can pull the lace curtain closed if you just want to tease him."

Jeana's eyes widened. "You planned on leaving it

all

the way open?"

I nodded sheepishly. "Donald and I did it one evening, but Ellen was home with Martin and I'm pretty sure neither one of them realized it or saw anything."

Jeana looked quietly excited. "Okay," she said. "I'm in. He's just...really attractive, isn't he? Do you think he'll be at his window? Do you think he got the hint?"

"I sort of spelled it right out," I said. "I felt really naughty. Did you notice that he went inside for a couple minutes earlier? I'm guessing he ran upstairs and opened their guest room window. Let's not talk about it; the houses are so close together, if he has it open he'll probably be able to hear us."